


The Joker and His Harley

by Persephonesheart



Series: The joker and his Harley [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Background Relationships, Blood, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dark Alec Lightwood, Dark Magnus Bane, Dom Magnus Bane, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Forgiveness, Guilt, Harley Alec, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Joker Magnus, M/M, Phone Sex, Pole Dancing, Possessive Magnus Bane, Semi-Public Sex, Sibling Incest, Sub Alec Lightwood, Suicide Squad, Torture, Voyeurism, not canon characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2019-09-16 06:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16948548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephonesheart/pseuds/Persephonesheart
Summary: A series of alternate universe oneshots with Magnus as the Joker and Alec as Harley Quinn.Chapter 2 and 3 have been edited





	1. The one, the only: Alexander Lightwood

Pandemonium was alive with the pulsing, writhing bodies of the dance floor and the drinks overflowing in their glasses. Magnus was watching the floor, his head turned towards the pole raised in the centre, a lustful look in his eyes. Alexander was on the dais, arms raised above his head, wrists crossed, body gliding up and down, his legs parting and bending to emphasis the leather booty shorts he was wearing. Distantly Magnus heard the door to the VIP booth open and close, footsteps coming closer and closer, but he refused to turn his head away from the sinful sight before him.

“Mr Bane” A gravelly voice called out, rough from years of smoking, “We finally meet”

Out of the corner of his eye Magnus can see the man, a werewolf from his appearance, stretching out his hand for a handshake, but still Magnus refused to look away from the Shadowhunter on the dance floor. Raphael, quick as ever, speeds over and shrugs the man’s hand away, explaining with a simple “He doesn’t shake hands”

The man seems offended by the lack of respect so Raphael is quick to pacify the situation “Sit down and have a drink.” Instantly the man takes the sofa opposite Magnus, his intent to start discussing business obvious. Golden green cat eyes move away from the sight of the Shadowhunter, gazing almost lazily around the crowd for any threats before returning to their previous position; the man should wait but he won’t, Magnus knows this. “Hey Mags”  _Strike one_  “On behalf of everybody, welcome back. I wanted to come by and personally say thank you.” He pauses again, as if his welcome will prompt Magnus to turn to him and speak. Unlikely, especially if Alexander is in the audience tonight. “You are making me good money” He tries again, and this time Magnus turns to face him, Cat eyes glowing with amusement.

“I’m making you good money? Awww are you sweet talking me?” Magnus laughs in a way that sends shivers down the werewolf’s spine, an uncomfortable feeling settling over him. He turns to Raphael, raising one his perfectly defined eyebrows “I love this guy!” He shouts, as if his happy comments will put the man more at ease, “he’s so intense” He turns back round to face the man, a Cheshire grin lining his face, a wild look in his eyes making the man swallow harshly; Magnus followed the movement with his eyes, delighting in the fear he could sense from the man.

Uncomfortable with the attention the werewolf turns his face to the crowd, his eyes instantly latching onto the body writhing against the pole. By now Alexander has turned to face the pole, his leather shorts and tight white shirt hiding nothing from the imagination; his hands are latched onto the pole above his head, black cuffs spelling out  _yes daddy_  tightly adorning his wrists, one leg lazily wrapped around the metal, his muscular legs and arms defined. On his neck is a large black choker with large gold glittery highlighting the MB written in the centre, allowing no man to mistake who it is he belongs to. With his leg clutched around the pole, Alexander is slowly rolling his hips, an intoxicating movement of humping the metal before him, sweat forcing his shirt to cling tightly to his chest, his abs defined and on display.

“You’re a lucky man” The werewolf starts up, startling Magnus out of the shameless admiration of his property and he quickly whips his head round to face the man, maniacal smile already in place. “You got a Shadowhunter and he’s a bad bitch.” Magnus eyes, once glittering in amusement, harden in anger at the man’s words and instantly he draws the werewolf’s attention back to him. “Oh, that he is, the fire in my loins, the itch in my crotch.” He hasn’t moved, not really, just leaned back and spread his legs, a noticeable bulge rising between them. He reaches out a hand, shaking with the intensity of his emotion and beckons Alec over.

“The one, the only, the infamous: Alexander Lightwood!” He declares, his voice rising like he’s announcing a wrestling match. A loving smile comes unbidden on his face as Alec appears at the doorway leading from the booth to the floor, his face flushed from the heat of the dance floor, his eyes half lidded as they take in Magnus’ appearance. “Come to daddy.” Magnus calls out, opening his arms wide and welcoming the slight weight when the smaller man giggles and straddles his lap, thigh high heels creating a wonderful sensation against his legs.

“Daddy!” He responds happily as his eyes wonder to the man sat opposite him, noting the dilated pupils and unwavering gaze. Without warning, Magnus turns Alec around and pushes him off his lap, sending him in the direction of the werewolf. “You are my gift to this handsome hunka hunka!” He laughs, watching with unhidden lust as Alec sways over, hips jutting out attractively, and places himself in the other man’s lap, “You belong to him now” he clarifies, delighting in the look that takes over Alec’s face and he focuses his full attention on the werewolf in front of him whose hands are wandering over his back and ass.

“You’re cute.” Alec declares, leaning in closer to the man’s lips, his voice changing into something deeper, sultrier. “You want me?” He whispers out, inching closer and closer, “I’m all yours.” The man leans closer and Magnus leans forward, eager to see if the man will claim Alec the way he always does, the way he did not two hours ago. The werewolf sees the movement and swiftly moves back, jostling Alec from his lap and onto the floor. “I don’t want no beef.” He declares, unsure of the offense he has caused the couple. From the floor, Alec grumpily stands up, letting out a small frustrated scream at the man, turning back to Magnus and crawling into his side, a pout forming on his face.

“You don’t want no beef?” Magnus starts calmly before rapidly losing his composure, “You don’t want no beef?” Alec moves forward, rushing back into the man’s lap as if he can’t sense the anger from the warlock behind him. “Why” He whines, moving his face incredibly close to the man, lips a hairsbreadth away from the others, “What’s wrong? You don’t like me?”

From behind the body in his lap, “You don’t want no beef?” This time deathly serious. “Fine,” He growls out, cold anger taking over his voice, “Don’t waste me time then.” The man seems to understand the extent of danger he is in. Unable to move with the body wiggling in his lap the werewolf is stuck in the room with two of the deadliest people in the Downworld with no escape, Raphael having left the room earlier. “This is your boy” The man explains helplessly, struggling to find a way out of this situation. Alec moves slightly to the side, unwilling to leave the lap he has situated himself in but now his hips are gyrating slightly, rubbing against the man. Magnus moves closer, sitting himself to the side of the man, a look of concern on his face. “Look..” He stretches out the word and the man knows now that he is defiantly screwed. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

He quickly shakes his head, any arousal from the lithe squirming boy in his lap dying away. “No, that’s your boy Magnus.” The man in question laughs, his face lighting up in a delightfully happy grin and the man feels a shiver of hope that maybe he will get out of here. “That’s right.” He chuckles smiling at the man and leering at Alexander who is rolling his hips, a blissed-out smile adorning his face. Without warning Magnus presses his hand against the man’s head and watches as blood rushed out of his nose and mouth, death coming for him quickly and painfully. Cat eyes turn back to his lover and lust clouds his vision as Alec rides the man’s lap, teeth nipping at the nail of one of his fingers.

Magnus picks the boy up, seeing his face and neck now covered in blood, and sits down in his original chair, placing him down in his lap, directly over the top of his clothed dick that’s straining against his leather trousers. The blue-eyed beauty moans at the feeling and rolls his hips harder, blood standing out against the pale ivory of his skin. He looks feral, he looks wild. Magnus grabs the front of his collar and drags the shorter boy down for a filthy kiss, licking and stroking inside the hot wet cavern open before him. Golden hands trail down over a muscular torso before coming to a stop on the straining bulge covered by tight leather shorts. Alec could play this game with him, would push Magnus to his limits and test his boundaries, but he always submitted, always knew who he belonged to; Magnus wouldn’t let him forget and from the mewls being ripped from the boy’s throat as his hands moved minimally, Alexander was a willing possession.


	2. Entertaining Alexander Lightwood

Magnus knew of his reputation in the Downworld, he had cultivated it himself. Through his mad antics and animalistic cruelty people tended to do what he asked, when he asked, and didn’t cause him any trouble. He left these people alone, sometimes, well- not really, Magnus enjoyed his mind games far too much to do  _that_ , but when people did his bidding that meant he could spend more time with his Alexander, his baby. Magnus groaned thinking about this morning, being woken by his baby wrapping his sinful lips around his cock, his head bobbing up and down beautifully as his eyes watered at the length in his mouth.

Ever since their first meeting in the Alicante psychiatric hospital in Idris, after the Shadowhunters had tricked and captured him a little over a year ago, Magnus knew that the blue-eyed beauty would be his. And so, with a little bit if magical persuasion Magnus had made it happen. He had never been happier than with he was with his baby, his  _Harley._

Unfortunately, Magnus had had one of his mad moments of cruelty and currently had five other, older Shadowhunters tied up on individual chairs around a grand dining table. This was highly unfortunate and distressing as it meant that he was away from Alexander when he really, really wanted him right now.

As always he had brought along his most trusted companions, Raphael and Luke, both of whom looked amused at the men before them. They were all old, around fifty, and fattening, their life of sitting behind desks whilst carelessly sending out the younger generations finally catching up to them. Their hands and legs were bound tightly, enough to hurt, and Magnus delighted in the thrill he got from seeing their angry glares. He wondered if they were angry about being tied up or him being in the house.

And honestly, if they hadn’t wanted him to enter the house with his friends, why was the door unlocked?

Looking at their runes Magnus again remembered his baby’s body, the way the darkness of the ruins offset his alabaster skin, the way Magnus could  _lick_ , and  _suck_  and  _bite_  and his baby would whine, pressing his body closer, endlessly closer, chasing his release-

It was obvious to all the present in the room that Magnus was now aroused and undeniably shameless about it. The downworlder’s were amused, hiding their smirks behind their hands and pointedly staring at the admittedly large bulge. The Shadowhunters were not. Magnus scoffed lightly, finding the prudish nature of the Nephilim to exhausting to truly care about and decided to finally gat a move on - his need for Alexander had grown much too strong.

“Good evening, gentleman! I am sure you're aware who I am, so please keep your excitment to a minimum. Just a quick question for you all, would you like to be strung up, gutted and left outside in the cold? Ooh, how about... I sell you off to some of my men, I’m sure they’d find good use for you. No? Really, nothing?” The five responded only with silence and furious glares, probably due to the cloths tied over their mouths, so Magnus decided to take it as confirmation that they agreed with the variety of his choices and were happy to leave their fates in his capable hands.

“Raphael coul-

_She’s a killer queen, gunpowder gelatine, dynamite with a laser beam…_

Magnus quickly picked up his phone, eager to answer to the person awaiting him on the other side. The other Shadowhunters scowled at the delay to their punishments (clearly), whilst the other downworlder’s all smirked and turned their attentions elsewhere, a small privacy in the giant dining room. Magnus placed the phone up to his ear, an animalistic yet fond grin on his face, his dark eyes staring wildly at his captives.

“Darling! I was just thinking about you, I have some old colleagues of yours with me. Say hello guys!” Magnus called out towards the Shadowhunters as he leaned back on his chair, propping his legs up onto the table and partially spreading them, creating a clear line of sight to his crotch. These men, on a totally legitement coincidance, were some of the men who campaigned avidly to have his baby locked up and sent for ' _tr_ _eatment'_

“ _Puddin…”_ Came the breathy response and Magnus felt his dick twitch.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“ _Puddin, I got bored wai-uh-waiting for you.”_

Magnus closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, his dick now uncomfortably contrained within in his tight trousers. Dear _god_ his baby was going to kill him. “You got bored?” He snarled out, putting every ounce of frustration and agitation he could muster into his voice. Sometimes, but very rarely, his Alexander wanted to feel like Magnus was doing him a favour during sex, as if he was something of little importance that Magnus wanted to get out of the way as soon as possible and this voice was the one he used for such occasions. He didn't know if this was such an occasion, but the low whine instead of the keening one meant he had understood the situation incorrectly. 

Alexander just wanted to play.

“ _You, uh, oh, you took my toys away. So I improvised.”_

The moans on the other side of the phone increased in volume and regularity and Magnus could hardly contain himself, eager to get home and fuck his baby, punish him for breaking the rules. He placed the phone on loudspeaker and settled it right onto the table, unzipping his trousers with his other hand. The Shadowhunters looked at his phone in disgust when they heard the breathy moans, faces twisting unpleasently, but Magnus just smirked at the sight, and the other downworlder’s looked interested as their bodies reacting to the noises without shame.

“What have you used baby?”

“ _Oh, oh, um your pillow-uh-between my thighs.”_ The admission is quiet, a juxtaposition to the moans pouring from his lips, but the image sends a shot of heat through Magnus, who promptly (and gladly) takes himself in hand and begins to stroke lightly, remembering the hesitant way Alexander still does it. It is endless endearing, and arousing, that after all they've done together, Alexader still became shy and tentative in some aspects of sex.

“What are you wearing?” Magnus has had a lot of practise at what he’s doing and so hides the arousal and the desperation in his voice whilst he begins to speed up his strokes, pulling harder and playing with his slit.

_“Your jumper.”_

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Magnus arches his back as his cock spurts pre-cum, his hand moving faster now at the image set before him. His baby, panting and sweaty, sat up in their bed and riding Magnus’ pillow between his thighs like the slut he is. His wrists adorned with  _yes daddy,_ his body bare besides from the oversized jumper he enjoys stealing from Magnus, his hand jerking his cock roughly, just the way he likes it.

Distantly, Magnus notes that other members of his raiding gang are pressing their hands onto their arousals and shifting their hips minutely, chasing a pleasure which they have no right to. He’ll speak to Luke after this and have them disposed of.

“Do you want me to come home baby, fuck you into the mattress until you can’t walk for a week, until all you know and can say is my name, until your body is a homage to my worship?” His answer is a series of moans, each louder than the last, with gasps of  _yes daddy yes_ included. Magnus jerks himself faster, his moans spilling from his throat unbidden; Alexander hears them, he knows, and from the sudden hitch of breath, enjoyed them.

“What should your punishment be I wonder? For disobeying my orders. You…you were a naughty baby tonight and you need to be punished…you disrupted my work.” Magnus digs the nail of his finger into his slit and hisses at the slight pain and feels the low heat in his belly, he’s close.

“ _Daddy, daddy, oh, oh, oh, I need-I need…”_

“What do you need baby?” Absently Magnus sees the other Shadowhunters glaring at him, their faces further distorted in disgust at the sight before them. Magnus Bane, warlock kingpin of the Downworld, pleasuring himself on their table whilst his Shadowhunter lover moans like a bitch in heat over the phone, the other downworlder’s eyes blown in lust as their dicks strain in their trousers.

“ _You, you, always you, oh daddy…”_

“When I get home, you are going to ride my dick like you are that pillow, and you are not going to cum unless I tell you, you will ride until I have filled you up  _so_  much, that it will be dripping out of you for days,”

_“Daddy..”_

“And then Alexander, I am going to plug you up and make you walk around all day feeling me inside you. Is that what you want?” A litany of  _yes, please, daddy_  follow the question, each rising in pitch and excitement.

The five Shadowhunters before him, once considered beauties in their youth, hold no candle to the blue-eyed, black haired boy he claims as his, and he sees the way their anger has increased throughout the conversation.

Magnus keeps working himself, his mouth spilling quiet moans and demands, his hand moves quicker and faster, his pre-cum providing enough slick to be more than comfortable. He wishes his darling was here now beneath his legs under the table, naked except for the jumper and cuffs. His baby was the patron saint of sucking cock.

“ _Cum_.” He demands and through the phone a hoarse cry sounds, broken and beautiful, of Magnus’ name. With it Magnus explodes, his release coating his hand and the table before him and his lets his head fall backwards as he shouts Alexander’s name, his breath leaving him in the moments afterwards. The room is now silent, baring the exhausted whines and pants from the phone, and Magnus swiftly stands up, tucking himself back into his tight leather trousers and turns his attention back to the captive Shadowhunters. He sends them a wicked grin and raised his hand, like a challenge, and licks a line of release from his hand before walking towards the door.

“Raphael, Luke, deal with them, I’ve got a baby to look after.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, hope you enjoyed this slightly more explicit chapter! If you have any pointers on how to write sex scenes, please dont hesitate to send them. On that note, send along your suggestions for future chapters!!! Love you all
> 
> This chapter has been edited fyi.


	3. Beware my lord, of jealousy, it is the green-eyed monster

It was a mistake to bring Alexander to pandemonium tonight.

Magnus had known this and had done it anyway because apparently his already fucked up mind decided that bringing his Shadowhunter to a Downworld bar after a fight would result in something good. So far, it had not.

Alexander had huffed and left his side the minute they walked through the doors, heading straight towards the dance floor and the ogling eyes of patrons, leaving Magnus alone to deal with politics. 

The warlock, as always, had hours of business to attend to and so was sat in his VIP area, which was cornered off from the rest of the floor by a small staircase and glittery bead curtains, with a drink and the memories of the last time he’d been here running through his brain. The werewolf who had been staring at  _his_  baby, the disrespectful comments about Alexander and the spell which tore the body from inside out, blood pouring from every orface.

The memory of the moments afterwards, the heat, the noises, the tightness, were having a more… _frustrating_  effect on his body.

A slight cough brought him out of his mind. Raphael and Simon were sat to the left of him, the fledging perched on the older vampires lap, as the three listened to the proposition from members of the new vampire clan which had arrived in New York last week.

It had been his Alexander who found them during one of his nightly patrols (he'd been hunting demons and any shadowhunters he came across when he caught sight of them at the docks) and he wasted no timein contacting the leaders of the Downworld to inform them of his discovery. New clans of any kind were rare, regardless of them being werewolf, vampire or Seelie, and most moved on after a couple of days, so for this new pack to be requesting an area of New york to settle down into was surprising.

Opposite Magnus, the new clan representatives sat with tight postures and alert eyes.

They envoy were made up of the head of the clan, a tall, broad shouldered black man with purple streaks dyed into his hair and two subordinates, a male and a female who looked like twins with porcelain coloured skin and golden hair, one going below the shoulder, the other below the ears.

So far, Magnus was not impressed with this clan who was trying to encroach on his territory, they had proved nothing but Shadowhunter haters, something which Magnus did not appreciate for the sake of his Alexander. He would have preferred his baby to be with him in the meeting but their argument about Alexander’s sparse clothing choice to the club had caused temporary rift and the younger man had yet to forgive Magnus, giving him the silent treatment.

“Look Magnus-

Magnus sent a glare to the leader, his golden green eyes flashing in anger and thinly veiled insanity. Who was this man to presume such familiarity? “-Mr Bane...we can offer you items to, uh,  _ease_  our entrance into the New Yok Downworld if that would help your decision, things which you wouldn't be likely to get otherwise, gold, rubies,  _blood…_ ”

Simon snorted loudly and disrupted the man talking, the absurdity of his request leaving the three stunned. “You’re a fucking idiot dude, Magnus already gets that stuff from us.” Said Downworld leader nodded his head at the information and leant back, his favoured cobalt blue sparks settling in his hands, and delighted at the flinch displayed by the three, in fact he felt himself get a little hot by the action. More than anything, Magnus yearned for the fear he could get from others and his body preened at the reaction. 

_Now where was Alexander?_

“You’ve taught your fledging well Raphael. You should celebrate.” It is a thinly veiled order and Raphael responded quickly, jostling Simon out of his lap and dragging him away from the VIP area and off to the dance floor, stopping only to throw a quick look at Magnus on his way out, a smirk tugging at his lips. With a similarly pointed look, the leader of the clan stood up and left behind his two subordinates, blatantly ignoring, or ignorant of, the threat he had placed them in.

In an instant the two siblings moved over to him, draping themselves on either side of him, dragging their hands over his chest and thighs, sucking his neck and kissing each other.

“You know,” Begins the girl as she pulls away from the blonde-haired boy who most certainly  _is_ her brother, “You could get a lot more from accepting us into the city.” She lets out a breathy moan as she touches Magnus’ cock over th barrier of his trousers, misunderstanding who his arousal was aimed towards. The boy, the _brother_ , sucks a little on Magnus’ neck and continues where his sister left off. “You could have  _anyone_ you wanted.” Magnus has to chuckle at the pairs attempt at seducing him, they were good, no doubt, but _his Harley_ was so much better at everything.

With a small laugh which draws twin looks of confusion from the siblings currently groping each other in his lap, Magnus clicks his fingers and watches with open pleasure as the two begin to writhe in pain on the sofa beside him, their bones breaking one by one in their bodies until a final snap silences them both forever.

A small disturbance at the curtain is his only indicator that Alexander has seen the entire thing and Magnus is aware now more than ever that he never stopped the siblings from touching him.

Shit.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes Magnus loves his reputation as the prince of the Downworld (it should be king, but he’s not going to argue semantics when Alexander is riding him  _just so_  when he says it). Nobody messes with him and he’s free to kill as many as he chooses in any manner of pain inducing, blood curdling ways without argument.

But he _hates_ when people see his status as a challenge, as something to take from him (which is a joke seeing as he can snap his fingers and break them in half), but most of all he hates when the challenge to his status means that people come after what is his, namely Alexander.

When Magnus fially reaches the bar area of pandemonium, his baby is dancing in the middle of the floor in all his lust inducing glory. Tonight - and what had sparked their debate- he was wearing a white crop top which was short enough to show his muscular yet skinny torso, the words  _Daddy’s little boy_  splayed across the front in solid black writing. It’s short enough that if Alexander raises his arms high, the pink nubs of his nipples peek out, their near constant perkiness provoking his inner demon to a lustful fury; Magnus knows that whenever he sees them he wants to bite and suck at them. His lithe ivory torso is open to everyone’s viewing, the bruises from Magnus’ fingers proudly on display at his hips. On his wrists the black cuffs showing his ownership are bold and unforgiving, the _yes daddy_ scrawled across them showing who to look out for.

Laying low on his hips is a red skirt that is only just long enough to be classed as decent. It reaches the middle of his milky thighs and when ever he bends over or turns too sharply it flies up and his lacy underwear shows. Tonight, Mangus realises, he choose black and the warlock feels his mouth dry like the desert. His smooth, hairless legs were covered by knee high white socks with red stripes around the top and on his feet were a pair of white, high heeled platform boots with irregular spots of red. That, Magnus realises, may be blood.

In short his boy looks fucking sinful and unbelievably fuckable and Magnus wants to ravish him where he stands, take him in the middle of the dance floor and lay his claim. He wants to see his baby on his knees in front of all these Downworlder’s and have them hear how he calls Magnus  _Daddy_ and submits only to him.

Currently however, Alexander is pissed at him, not only for their argument earlier in the evening, but because he saw Magnus allowing the vampire siblings to touch him without stopping them, and therefore has concocted his own blend of revenge. Looking like he did and with who his partner was, Alexander clearly had no trouble finding dancing partners and it seemed that he had found someone compatible for the night.

Or rather, two someone’s.

They looked like werewolves, strong muscular bodies with broad shoulders and big muscles who both towered over his baby quite significantly, clearing Alexander’s height by at least a foot. One was pressed against Alexander’s back, his baby’s ass pressing into the erection behind him, unashamedly rubbing back and forth, enticing the man into grinding up against him. Said man had an arm around Alexander’s waist and was keeping him pressed tightly against his front, rolling his erection forward as his other hand fondled the top of his baby’s thighs, pressing his fingers into the bruises that litter the area.

The other man crowded Alexander’s front and both hands were laying on the bottom of his sugar’s ass, groping and pinching at the skin there; even from the edge of the dancefloor, Magnus can see Alexander throwing his head back, can practically hear the moan he releases at the sensation. The werewolfs mouth is latched onto the swan like neck, planting hickey after hickey on the pale expanse of skin.

Magnus growls in his throat and unleashes his magic in anger. The doors to the club opening wide and streams of people being forced out into the night as Magnus’ eyes never leave the frankly pornographic scene in front of him. When its only the four of them remaining, the music still blasting, Magnus feels his anger growing rapidly as the three carry on with their actions, the man in front now tangling his tongue with Alexander’s as the younger man moans unashamedly, throwing his head back onto the other man’s shoulder. With a further snap of his finger Magnus forces the other two men to kneel, invisible ropes wrapping around their bodies as they grunt, dissatisfied as they are forcefully parted from their conquest.

Alexander, meanwhile, looks  _wild._

He doesn’t look at Magnus as he moves to take a seat in a booth off to the left, sipping from the drink left behind, and planting both legs onto the table, spreading them just so, giving Magnus a view to the straining erection beneath his skirt and lacy panties.

The two werewolves follow his baby and stare with lust blown pupils at his body, both men noticing quickly when Magnus' gaze turns to them. The warlock laughed high and loud, a sinister mocking thing, sending chills down the men’s spines as he clutched onto his middle, laughing harder and harder. From his left the  _prince_ can hear his lovers high pitched giggles and drinks them in as he regains silence.

The werewolves were shivering in fear, eyes darting between the pair as they realise that they most certainly  _didn’t_  get away with almost fucking _Magnus_ ’ Shadowhunter.

He swayed towards them, long, dark purple coat swaying with him, feet tapping out a sinister rhythm on the floor, the music having abruptly stopped alongside Magnus’ laughter. He reaches out and grips their chins hard, taking his time to look into both sets of eyes, his anger and possessiveness shining through. “Mmmmm, what to do with you two then?” Magnus makes a show of walking around them, ignoring his angel sat a few feet away, his eyes never straying from the bound bodies. “There’s so much stuff I could do!” He shouts in excitement, his voice taking on the tone of pure joy and once again Magnus feels a sense of pleasure at seeing the two men swallow in fear.

In the space of a blink Magnus flung the two men into the air, his hands tightening around their throats and he lifts them from the ground, ignoring their flailing and chocking. “You think you can just  _dance_  with my baby, think you can just  _touch_  him like he’s yours!” He roars, his eyes flashing in anger as his jealousy begins to overwhelm him, visions of their roaming hands and grinding filling his vision. One of the men clutches onto Magnus hand, trying to get more air into his lungs as the other begin to speak. “We…just…wanted…to try him…see if he’s as good…as he looks…the freaky bitch.”

Magnus doesn’t even blink as he rips the men’s spines out through their necks, welcoming the spray of blood that touches him. He stares, enraptured, as the men fall the ground like dolls, their heads rolling like footballs.

Magnus is pleased.

He turns on his heels to view his baby sitting across from him, eyes half lidded, fist lightly encasing his cock as he half heartedly rolls his hips. Magnus knows he can cum without any stimulation,  _has_ done it by only watching Magnus tear someone apart in anger before.

“Now baby,” He chuckles and watches as Alexander moves his glazed eyes to meet his own and Magnus’ feet move him closer, “What ever shall I do with you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this prompt 'Can you do a jealous magnus based on the Harley alec and Joker magnus?' by Megan, hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> This work has now been edited


	4. Vengeance is mine, I will repay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is for the person who requested a fic about Alec being injured by someone trying to get to Magnus - I hope you enjoy it and it lives up to your expectations!

To put it shortly, Magnus was pissed. Today, not only had he had to deal with some  _very_  disruptive seelies who he’d been forced to put down (honestly, a vat of acid wasn’t that bad – Alec had survived it perfectly fine) but he’d been made to leave his baby in their loft horny, whiny and alone, with only two of those factors appealing to him. Now, however, was the meeting of important Downworld leaders and his Alexander was supposed to be here with him for support, he’d promised. Raphael had turned up with his fledging, Luke sat with Maia, Meliorn sat with another Seelie whom Magnus cared little for and he himself had Ragnor sat beside him. Alexander’s absence was notable and unfathomable, his punishment was going to be torturous.

“Magnus,” Came the voice of his oldest friend, green hand settling on his arm gently as if trying to pacify a wild animal, “Start the meeting, the Shadowhunter will be along shortly.” Magnus growled in response, where was his Alexander? The slut had been so desperate for him this morning, why wasn’t he here now? The other members looked uncomfortable at the anger radiating from the head of the table, shifting in their seats; even Raphael who stood alongside Magnus at many of his meetings and ‘punishments’ was unable to look the man in his golden green cat eyes. At the opposite end of the table the unknown Seelie, who Magnus realised looked startingly like Alexander – a deliberate act by the Seelie queen no doubt – stood up and huffed loudly,  _strike_   _one._

“Look Magnus,”  _Strike two_ “is this meeting taking place or what, you’ve forced us all here to listen and discuss with each other about demons and Shadowhunters and what not, to complain about the bigotry and racism by the clave yada yada…” Beside him, the other Downworlder’s noticed Meliorn’s silently frantic attempts to quieten the other Seelie and force him back into his seat, to no avail.

“And now you’re making us wait because your Shadowhunter  _whore_  isn’t here!”  _Strike three._ Magnus snapped his fingers and the man began holding his throat, suddenly desperate to get air into his lungs, pulling at the skin and clawing at the tightness. The leaders watched, silent, as the man began to tear the skin at his throat, blood pouring out in streams, until a large gaping hole was created, forcing the remaining life out of the man. “Right,” Magnus laughed, his eyes manic in the dim lighting, “Now that he’s gone, does anyone else have an opinion.” Delighted, the de facto leader watched as every other member present hastily shook their head, pleasure shooting through them at the fear in their eyes.

The man opened his mouth again, another increasingly angry comment about where his love had gone, when the doors to the meeting room burst in and a blue skinned warlock – Catarina- burst in, worry etched onto her face. “Magnus, I think you might want to come here.” The prince of hell lifted one perfectly trimmed eyebrow, Cat may be his friend, but he would not let her order him around so casually in front of so many important people.

“It’s Alexander.”

Without a word Magnus uprooted himself from his throne and hastily walked in the direction Catarina was leading him, his eyesight tunnelling to the pathway before him. They walked for five minutes, five minutes in which Magnus worked himself up into worry, then despair, anger, hysteria and then circling back to worry, before turning into a small medical room the warlock had set up in his own home. At first Magnus didn’t associate the figure on the bed with  _his_ Alexander; the thing was far too much bloody, its bones far too crooked, and yet when he looked closer he could see the flash of raven hair dyed with pink and blue, could see the dark runes contrasting with porcelain skin, could see the cuffs adorning his wrist spelling out Magnus’ ownership.

With no hesitation Magnus strode towards the bed, his magic already flying to the prone figure and eyes assessing the damage before him. He closed off his emotions, they would be no help to Alexander now. With a scan Magnus catalogued the worst of his baby’s injuries, four broken ribs, a broken nose, a fractured left forearm, two broken fingers, a fractured right hip, a broken left leg. His body was littered with bruises and cuts, his head sporting the worst of it, with blood flooding down his face, covering the beautifully pale skin that Magnus loves so well. His clothes had been ruined, his favoured white crop top covered in dirty footprints, his red and blue shorts torn irreparably and one of his black converse boots missing.

It  _hurt_ , seeing his Alexander, his Harley, like this. Magnus knew the game they played, ruled their lives by, pretended that Alexander was completely under Magnus’ thumb, unable to protect himself without the warlock; this was the image most people saw. But the prince of hell, and everyone close to them, knew how Alexander was one of the strongest, toughest, fiercest Shadowhunters that had ever existed, able to nail a demon with an arrow from hundreds of meters away and fight off ten people at once (it wasn’t an exaggeration, Magnus ha seen him do it), so whatever had gotten to him tonight had managed to surprise him. The thought didn’t sit well with Magnus.

For the next hour and a half Magnus locked himself and Alexander in the tiny hospital style room and worked his magic, healing every broken bone, every bruise, every cut, until there wasn’t a trace of the attack left. His energy was depleted besides the desire for a cuddle with his baby, but Magnus tilled had things to do; firstly, beginning with Alexander’s clothing. With what left he had of his magic, Magnus conjured up a fluffy pastel blue jumper, oversized as was Alexander’s prerogative, and a pair of black booty shorts, hastily dressing his lover to provide him with a little comfort.

With a heaving sigh, Magnus walked to the door and allowed Catarina to enter, her whole-body showing concern for the young blue eyed man on the bed. “He’s fine,” Magnus reassured, his posture tense, back ramrod straight as he looked to his friend. “What I want to know, is who did this.” At this Magnus’ face contorted, features twisting into anger, eyes blazing with promises of pain. The blue skinned warlock looked to the boy on the bed and moved a string of hair from his face, resolutely ignoring the possessive growl that came from Magnus at the movement.

“I’m not sure exactly, I stumbled upon his in an alleyway like that…he-he wasn’t breathing when I first found him Magnus. I brought him here and secured him before going back to find any clues, but there wasn’t much. I sensed angel blood,  _Nephilim,_ but it was faint, not enough to get a trace of where they went or who they were. I’m sorry.” Catarina bowed her head, respecting the powerful warlock before her, hoping he would see her explanation as suitable. Magnus simply nodded, his hand clenched into a tight fist, turning his knuckles white, and Cat understood it for what it was, hurriedly exiting the room as the Edom prince opened a portal the alleyway of his beloveds near death.

 

* * *

 

 

It had taken Magnus a lot of power he didn’t have – he’d stolen the power from his father, but there wasn’t much said man could do about it really – to track the angelic hunters who’d attacked his baby, but he’d done it. The faint traces of their presence in the alley may have been too weak for Catarina, but not for him, not when his anger was what it was. The warlock knew his mentality at the moment was hanging on a thread, one conveniently labelled  _Alexander._

So now he stood, imposing, threatening, at the entrance to the new York institute, where a band of six Shadowhunters were soon to meet their end. Stealing more power, Magnus blasted open the doors, sending the alarms haywire, and strode in, his golden eyes display the extent of his madness. With a hysterical laugh Magnus threw the Shadowhunters running towards him at the wall, caring little for the injuries they sustained, he had come here for one reason. Continuing his haunting of the institute, Magnus eagerly searched for the Shadow group, mouth etched into a smirk, as if chasing down the criminals was a fun game to him.

Finally, he descended upon the training room where a group of six, five male and one shorter female, were at in a circle, seemingly unaware of the alarms blaring around them. These were the ones. With a simple wave of his hand, the six were thrown like ragdolls across the room, each one being pinned to the wall by invisible hands, clutching and scratching at their skin, forcing the air out of their lungs. “Were you the six who dared to harm  _my_  baby?” He laughed, watching in sick amusement as the group began to fight harsher against their bindings, desperate to get away but unable to move or speak.

“Mmm, not nice is it? Being attacked unfairly without warning. So, what I really want to know, and you  _will_  tell me, is why you thought you’d attack my Alexander and get away with it? You can’t all be such idiots!” The group began to struggle harder, fear clouding their eyes, as the invisible hands became more demanding, forcing them into the wall stronger, tearing at the skin around their necks. Magnus walked forward, inspecting each Shadowhunter as he went past, trying to unearth who was most likely to tell the truth. The last man he came to, dark in skin and hair, neatly cut beard with dark brown eyes, seemed to be the most afraid, the most likely to rat out his associates to save himself.

The warlock flexed his hand and the bindings around the man loosened, keeping him pinned but allowing him to breath, and most importantly, speak. “Well!” Magnus demanded impatiently, “Answer”. The man shook within his restraints, and it seemed as he wasn’t going to answer but as Magnus moved towards him and his mouth opened, along with it the truth. “Alexander Lightwood is seen as a disgrace to the institute, a Shadowhunter carrying on as he is with a warlock, dressing like some back alley whore and being seen by hundreds dancing at your club with a claim of ownership practically branded on him.” The man seemed shocked to have said so much, his fear causing him to babble the truth out, unable to refrain from doing so once he started. Meanwhile, the prince had stopped in his steps, anger and danger rolling off him in waves at the information; his baby, his precious, loving,  _delicious,_ Harley had been attacked by the very race he belonged to with no remorse. This was going to destroy him.

“The clave,” The man continued, much to both their surprise, and Magnus covered his mouth with his hand, the blue sparks of his magic travelling around his face, making clear the punishment this man, and the others, were to receive. “The clave ordered the attack, they thought- they thought if we got rid of Alexander, they could get rid of you.”

The world seemed to stop at these words.

His lover, his angel, the light of his  _goddamn_  life had been attacked in an attempt to get to Magnus. How  ** _dare_**  they! How dare they use his lover against him. How dare they put their filthy, bloodstained hands upon his perfect porcelain skin. With a glint of madness in his eye and the flicker of fire in his fingers, Magnus released the Shadowhunters from the wall and forced closed the entrance to the room, unwilling to be interrupted. For a moment the six Shadowhunters looked like they would attack him, try to fight for their rapidly decreasing chances of freedom, but Magnus was faster and sent a wave of magic towards them, eager to dispatch them as quickly as possible.

The six began to writhe where the stood, screaming in blinding pain and unending agony. The room filled with the sound of bone after bone breaking, snapping inside their bodies like twigs, splintering and cracking with no pause. Blood began to pour from their mouths, their eyes, their noses as they begged and begged for release, apologising for their actions, promising hundreds of things they would never do. Their breathing was restricted, placing them on the brink of passing out before drawing back, allowing precious breath to enter their battered and broken bodies before repeating.

When finally, the screaming and begging had subsided, the breaking coming to an end and their bodies laying broken and unfixable on the floor Magnus stood up from his position against the wall and turned towards the entrance to the training room, forming a portal with a wave of his hand. The warlock reflected sadly that this was normally the sort of scene Alexander adored, often dropping to his knees in front of Magnus the sight of so much pain, blood staining his clothes and skin, eyes alight with adrenalin, eagerly accepting anything offered to him. Turning his back to the scene, Magnus ambled to the portal, body relaxing after his job was finished. The clave would get his warning from this, they wouldn’t be coming after him or his baby ever again.

For now though, he had an angel waiting for him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo hope you all enjoyed this dark joker Magnus revenge fic. Don't forget to drop me a promt, whether thats in video, picture or word format, and don't hesitate to comment on what you liked and didn't. Not as much as fluff I wold have liked in here so sorry guys, maybe I'll rewrite it or add on a second part with fluff?


	5. Cock it and pull it part one

It had been inevitable really. Sooner or later one of them was bound to be caught by the police – in this case Shadowhunters. It was going to be Magnus, the way the standoff was going had put the de facto leader at a disadvantage, until from across the city Alexander had let off a perfectly timed explosion complete with a ruthless mowing down of some Shadowhunters. Instantly Magnus had been left alone in order to deal with the new threat, which ultimately ended up meaning Alexander had been thrown in the Idris equivalent of prison; they wouldn’t put him in the Alicante psychiatric hospital, he had worked there once and knew all the escapes.

On his first day, the crazy Shadowhunter had attempted to scare off the other inmates by immediately stabbing and killing one of the guards escorting him to his cell. It hadn’t worked the way he wanted as he’d only been assigned more guards, which was unhelpful when both them and the other inmates had decided he was only good as Magnus Bane’s bitch and therefore free for groping and sexual calling. His slightly smaller and twinkish body had not helped in this situation.

Currently Alec was swinging on the hammock in his cell – he’d bargained for a larger cell with climbing apparatus in return for a promise to ‘get help’ – his orange clothed leg dangling over the side. He’d been here a week now (was Magnus ever coming for his baby or not?) and was sorely missing the cute outfits that made Magnus go mentally possessive over him and ultimately push him up against a wall for.

He hated wearing the orange jumpsuit typical of Alicante prisoners.

But the reminder of Magnus’ possessiveness, of the way he would hold his neck _just so_ to remind him of he belonged to brought alone pleasant memories. Teasing his clothed chest first, Alexander slowly began to descend his hand lower and lower, his body was yearning for touch, to feel the hot grasp of a hand – preferably one belong to a golden skinned Adonis. His hand reached his clothed waist and a smile flickered on his face, he liked to tease himself like this, it made him last longer for daddy. Sluggishly the hand moved lower, lower, lower…

“Lightwood!”

“Ah” Alec let out a huff of frustration at the disruption to his pleasure. _Fucking Morgenstern_. That stupid guard was one of his more persistent ‘suitors’ and seemed unable to take a hint, regardless of the amount of times Alec had either physically or verbally attacked him and even on one occasion, spat on him. He rolled off his hammock, perfectly performing the landing from the fifteen foot drop, and stood up narrowing his eyes at the innocent expression on Sebastian’s face. _He probably gets off on it._ He let out a low growl when he saw the blonde’s eyes move to somewhere the most certainly did not belong and it seemed to snap him to attention.

“What do you want?”

“Well I think you know the automatic answer to that sweet.”

“Said that again and you won’t have a tongue _sweet_.” Alec may be smaller than Sebastian and his body lithe as opposed to muscular but he refuses to let this ignorant fucker intimidate him into becoming his prison **bitch**. Sebastian only rolls his eyes and opens the door to Alec’s cell, a smug look on his face at the confusion Alec shows.

“It’s dinner time _slut_.” Oh lovely, his favourite combination – insults and prison food. Without a word to Sebastian, Alec saunters out of his cell, hips swaying enticingly as possible in the jumpsuit and _god I need some new clothes_. He feels a hand brush against his cock and the resounding growl he lets out in answer is enough to make the blonde back off, innocent expression back on his face. Whatever, at least he didn’t say anything this time.

As always with dinner time the inmates decided it was heckle time. It seemed to be some sort of competition between them, who could cop the most feels _and_ say the lewdest things. They just didn’t seem to get his message did they? He’d already sent three guys to the hospital for touching him and killed another who had made a grab at him during shower time. Honestly, It was like they were asking to be hurt!

Today as he entered the hall catcalls and wolf whistles showered down in his direction and immediately he felt a couple of hands making their way towards his ass. With nothing but a roll of the eyes Alec keeps on walking towards the line up; don’t they know he’s _tired_ and _horny_ for his daddy, he doesn’t want these grubby replacements.

“Damn baby, shake that ass!”

“C’mon Lightwood, we’ve got something for you”

“Unzip your outfit Lightwood, let me see what I have to work with.”

Ah, another day, another adding of names to his list of people he needs to kill. God where is _Magnus?_ By now Alexander is at the front of the line and accepts his so-called ‘food’ which, really, has no right to call itself thus and seems to be more akin to baby paste. Perhaps he’ll leave it today.

He throws his food in the bin and begins the harassing walk back to his cell. Sebastian will follow him regardless of how long he stays for dinner, his job is literally to ensure Alec doesn’t escape or cause any trouble, but he doesn’t do anything to prevent the catcalling and groping he is forced to deal with on the way there. A hand reaches out and fondles his dick whilst another wraps around his waist to keep him still, a body pressed incredibly close to his back; he can feel everyone’s eyes on him and knows they are getting pleasure from watching this _exchange_ , of seeing **Magnus Bane’s bitch** getting felt up and unable to do anything about it.

He growls angrily and snaps his head up, breaking the nose of the inmate behind him whilst simultaneously twisting his wrist just so, finding pleasure in the snapping noise that accompanies it. The man howls in pain and moves quickly away, swearing and screaming about his precious nose and wrist. Alec rolls his eyes and continues on his journey, making sure to keep his eyes up and shoulders back as he walks amongst the crowd. The feeling of blood on his skin is a welcome feeling.

 

* * *

 

 

When he finally reaches his cell, he doesn’t wait for Sebastian to open the gate for him, instead opening it himself and swinging up to his hammock, resuming his position from before dinner. Honestly, what a waste of his time. Sebastian is still watching him, Alec can feel his burning, lustful gaze and pointedly ignores him, beginning to sing a song about Magnus and their love. Its haunting and would no doubt horrify any listener who wasn’t Alec or Magnus.

Or Sebastian apparently.

He’s moved closer, Alec heard the lock in the door but not the footsteps leading away, but he’s silent as if waiting for Alec to do something which would prompt a response. It is unfortunate then, that Alec had never quite grasped an understanding of patience. In the split second Alec turned his head to face the blonde asshole, his hammock had been cut down and his body had come racing down to the floor, landing upon it in a heap of tangled limbs and achy muscles.

“What the fuck asshole?” He shouts – well he tries to but the fall winded him and it comes out more like a whisper. Sebastian only walks closer, seemingly delighted in Alec’s prohibited state, and it comes as a sudden realisation to the black haired boy that Sebastian has planned this. He knew exactly how to weaken him just enough to make him unable to fight back but not to cause concern. _Clever boy._ If he were Magnus, Alec would have hurried to congratulate him.

Whilst unable to fight back, Sebastian hauled Alec to his knees in the middle of his cell, providing a clear view of events to anyone approaching. Of course, its just what the Morgenstern brat wants, attention for his achievements. _He’s the one that fucked Magnus’ Shadowhunter._ Alec doesn’t panic as Sebastian positions his smaller body how he wants it, if worst comes to worst Alec will simply have to receive now and take back later – although what Sebastian receives will probably be a bit more **explosive.**

The fall must have hurt him more than he thought, Sebastian is moving his body around as if he was a doll, tying his arms behind his back and spacing his knees out further. With teasing fingers Sebastian slowly unzips the horrid orange jumpsuit, inch by inch, until Alec is left with his chest completely bare and exposed; Sebastian wastes no time in trailing a fingernail over his lithe torso, focusing on the pink nubs of his nipples. Alec growls, low and dangerous, it’s a last warning to Sebastian – if he stops now his death might not be as painful.

The man only smiles in the creepy manner he seems to have perfected and fists the raven locks, pulling them back hard enough to induce a wince out of Alec. _Now would be a great time Daddy!_ He unzips the fly of his prison issued guard trousers, exposing his hard and deep red cock, and his smile turns feral. Alec for his part, is deeply unimpressed with the appendage in front of him; Magnus had shoved bigger toys into him, let alone his dick. A weep of pre-cum drops off Sebastian’s cock and lands on Alec’s cheek and this seems to be the hairline trigger of the blonde’s control.

With barely a word he shoves his cock deep into the cavern of Alec’s mouth, uncaring of the gagging and tears which are produced; the smaller man tries to move away but the harsh tug on his hair keeps him in place. Sebastian moans, long and loud, as he continuously rolls his hips aggressively back and forth, using Alec’s mouth to his utmost desire and ignoring the chocked sounds coming from the boy’s throat.

Without warning he pulls Alec forward until his nose presses against his pubic hair and the smaller man struggles with the feeling of the cock deep in his throat. Alec tries desperately to move away, to get off, but Sebastian holds him in place, enjoying the feeling of a warm, wet throat swallowing harshly around his length. His moans continue to get louder and by now a small crowd of guards have gathered to watch the show; they cheer Sebastian on, urging him to finish quicker so that they can have a go next. Alec will kill them all.

He can tell Sebastian is getting close, his hips are stuttering and the cock buried in his throat has begun twitching. _Perfect timing_. He sees a shadow by the window and a couple more behind a pillar some feet away from his cell; he wants to laugh, he wants to cry, to scream and shout because finally, finally, _finally!_ Absently, Alec notices that the blonde above him has begun whispering **filthy** things into the air, begging for release, for the endless feeling of his tight throat, he promises to repeat the performance in Alec’s ass next time. He pays these no attention, just as he ignore the tears down his own throat or the slight feeling of abandonment he’s had for the past week.

When Sebastian reaches his peak, Alec launches his plan. He feels the hot pulses of cum shooting down his throat and with a gleeful smile **bites down.** Suddenly blood fills his mouth, the blonde above him goes deathly pale and the cheers and leers from outside the cell turn into horrified screams. Distantly he hears the sound of gunfire, magic and howls but his eyes never stray from the green of the guard stood in front of him, the eyes glazed over in shock slowly regaining focus as pain and anger fill them. He’s still on his knees, jumpsuit around his waist, hands ties behind his back and Sebastian raises the seraph blade on his belt high in the air, a look of determination overtaking him. He swings the blade down in an arc.

“ALEXANDER!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of part one! For those wondering about the Sebastian/Alec tag here are the results. Hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to comment on what you liked, didn't or any prompts you many have!


	6. Cock it and pull it part two

It had taken less than a blink of an eye for the life of Sebastian Morgenstern to come to an end. In a move powered only by Shadowhunter strength and a heavily fractured mind, Alexander had torn away from his restraints, ripping the rope from his wrists, and ripped Sebastian’s spine from his neck. A wild smile appeared on his face as the blonde man gurgled and drowned in his blood, falling to his knees before collapsing lifeless to the floor; his seraph blade falling alongside him. Alexander’s eyes widened in crazed happiness as he took in the sight of blood dripping from his clothes. _Oh, how I’ve missed this._ He spared a glance down at the mangled body below him.

“Here lies Sebastian Morgenstern, as dickless as he was spineless.”

A bitter, harsh laugh forced its way out of his throat, a combination of despair, blinding happiness and absolute madness. Shadowhunter prison had not been kind to Alexander in any way. Raising the seraph blade high the blue eyed inmate began hacking and slashing as fast as he could at the body, his laugh ringing out like a beacon the entire time.

This was when Magnus reached him.

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus glanced at his angel in concern, unbridled love and a hint of arousal. Seeing his baby covered in blood and putting his strength into something was _hot_. But for the moment he had to calm his baby down and get him away from this cursed place; god knows what Alexander had faced in this place. Hesitantly, as if he was scared of his love, Magnus reached out and placed a heavily ringed hand on his pale naked shoulder, managing to stay still when Alexander turned around, torso and faced drenched with blood.

“Daddy, you came!”

Upon seeing him Alexander drops the blade, drops the maniacal laugh and he seems to come back to his own, relatively, sane mind. He stands up on shaky legs, clutching the torn orange jumpsuit to himself, suddenly feeling self-conscious in the presence of his lover and so many of his gang members, and steps closer. A loving smile comes onto his face as Magnus embraces his lover in a bloody hug. Usually, if Alexander got blood on his clothing Magnus would give him some ‘punishment’ but right now, the Downworld leader thinks, his baby just needs _him_. Prison was not something he’d ever wished on his Shadowhunter, his mind too fragile, his countenance too soft, too sensitive sometimes so now Magnus was going to help him heal. After all, he’d only gone to prison to protect his daddy hadn’t he.

Magnus grips the ivory skinned man around his chin harshly at the thought of his self-sacrificing act and draws him into a blood kiss. The taste of something metallic enters his mouth as he plunders Alexander’s own, licking and sucking at the hot cavern opened eagerly for him; he has not seen his baby for a little over a week and was starved of the sexual gratification and love that came with his presence. His hands grip tightly around the lithe waist of his lover and drag him closer, pressing his body against the bulge in his very very _tight_ black trousers. A whine, keening and high pitched, is released from the smaller boy and Magnus increases his efforts of devouring Alexander with his tongue and mouth alone.

Eventually, when breathing became a necessity instead of a luxury, Magnus pulled away from his baby and rested his forehead against the bloodied skin of his lovers, breathing deeply and harshly. God, Alexander looks _wrecked_. His entire torso and face is covered in dark crimson, lips plump with a trail of saliva running from the side of his mouth, eyes half lidded, the blue of his irises glazed with lust, his chest moving harshly with the pressure of his breathing.

“Come on baby lets get out of here. This orange jumpsuit is _hideous!_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

It had been a week since the prison escape and Magnus had begun to feel more than a little concerned. When they had first returned to the loft they called home with Raphael and Luke in tow to discuss what was going to happen next, Alexander had seemed fine. However, it had quickly devolved when his baby refused to wear the cute outfits he loved so much, instead choosing to wear the awful oversized, holey sweaters and jeans he’d been wearing when Magnus had first met him. Even though Magnus had been at his club every night of this week (the rise of radical Shadowhunters was causing too many problems for him to ignore) Alexander had only come once when he normally would come every night and had refused to dance or leave his seat in the VIP lounge next to Magnus.

He spoke little and slept often. His eyes seemed more distant as days passed as his mind caved into itself. Magnus loved Alexanders level of crazy, it was after all what allowed them to be together and couldn’t deny the burning fire of lust that went through him whenever he saw Alexander brutally murdering someone or covered in blood. But Alexanders lack of, well, _anything_ was massively worrying, so Magnus had devised a plan. He would force the truth of the problem from Alexander if he had to; the Shadowhunter was his baby, but he could just as well terrorise him as well as any other Shadowhunter if he chose.

He’d set Raphael and Luke on him all day whilst he’d been out with meetings. He would say he was sorry for killing a couple of people during said meetings but really, he wasn’t. The two had been pestering Alexander about his life, prison, his mental health and any other topics which no doubt would rile him up, so when he came home, it was to no surprise that his love was pacing angrily around the living room, baseball bat dragging behind him.

“Alec, what’s wrong?”

The shorter male turned to glare at him with piercing blue eyes, the bat raising to land on his shoulders. “Alexander.” He growled, baring his teeth a little.

“I’m sorry?” Magnus asked, a deliberately innocent tone in his voice.

“You call me Alexander or baby! Not…not Alec.” His voice began to crack and Magnus knew it wouldn’t take long now for Alexander’s defences to completely come down.

“Well if you insist on cutting me out of your life, why should I allow you in mine.” Whatever he had done, whether it was the words themselves or the tone of indifference, something about that statement made Alexander snap. He raced forward, throwing Magnus onto the sofa and straddling him, pushing the bat against his chest to confine him to his seat. The taller male could see Alexander was at his breaking point and whilst he was sad he had pushed his baby so far, they could work on making things better.

“You think I want to push you away! I was in that place for a week Maggie, a week! And every day, every _fucking_ day I had to deal with people groping me, harassing me, touching me when I didn’t want to. I killed someone on my first day and no one gave a _shit_ because they saw me as your bitch, a fantastic fuck. I had to deal with people talking about me, making up all kinds of shit and _you weren’t there_!” He begins to make weak punches onto Magnus torso, throwing the bat somewhere in the loft to be picked up later. Tears are streaming down his face and Magnus is horrified; Alexander has never cried in front of him before.

“And then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, some blonde haired _rapist_ decided he’d waited long enough. He _hurt me_ Daddy, hurt me so that I couldn’t fight him. I was tied up, defenceless and injured and he _shoved his dick down my throat and made me suck._ I fucking hated it, I hated him. I bit the guys fucking dick off! He’d invited an audience to come see him ‘deflower Bane’s pet.’ I wanted to fucking die Maggie.” His voice has broken now, it is weak and quiet, fragile, something Magnus has only seen a couple of times before. When his baby was upset he either attacked someone or fucked, he never cried.

“I’m broken Maggie, more than I ever was before.” And Magnus Bane, fearless, crazed leader of the Downworld, heartless and uncaring towards others and a merciless killer let his tears fall freely as he pulled his lover towards him with promises of help and love. And Alexander Lightwood, insane, unstable, unfeeling consort of the Downworld, brutal murderer and unsympathetic to his own race began to sob and collapsed into the arms of his lover, allowing himself to heal.

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus, more than anything, loved shoving things into Alexander regardless of what they were. Usually, he preferred to fuck his baby himself, enjoyed the feeling of his tight ass and clenching muscles but sometimes he enjoyed seeing what objects he could fuck his baby with.

After their chat a few days ago, Alexander had become more like himself before; he went out to clubs to dance and hunt, he looked after his body and began to wear his adorably sinful outfits again. Magnus couldn’t get enough of it.

They’re at the club, sat together in the VIP area, Alexander on Magnus lap, his tight black and red mini skirt up to his thighs. This evening he had worn his skirt with a sheer lacy white top, wrists adorned with his _yes daddy_ leather cuffs and knee high black platform boots; underneath said skirt lays sheer lacy underwear, a recent gift from his lover, and Magnus _loves_ it. In a slightly distorted view of everyone Alexander is grinding his hips hard and fast, head thrown back as his one hand teases his nipple, the other gripping tightly to Magnus’ shoulder. _What a sight to behold_.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” Magnus whispers out hoarsely, his lips brushing against the ivory skin of his lovers neck as he continues to bite and suck. Alexander lets out a loud high pitched whine and begins to ride harder and faster to chase his release. He will get no help from Magnus tonight. The elder is close himself, after watching his baby rolling his hips so, moans spilling from his mouth like prayers, sweat pooling in the indents of his collarbones.

In his hand Magnus is holding one of his favourite guns, a Smith and Wesson 500 Magnum, and watches as the barrel continues to disappear into his baby over and over again. Alexander nears his end and begins to ride the gun more desperately, his hips rising and circling at an increased pace “Daddy, daddy, oh, oh, _please,_ uh dadd-oh.” He comes untouched and Magnus thinks hands down it is the sexiest goddamn thing he’s ever seen and wastes no time in following his baby.

Alexander slowly picks himself off the gun and raises Magnus hand so the barrel is parallel to his mouth. The elder watches with half lidded eyes as his younger lover sinks his mouth down on the barrel like its Magnus’ cock, cleaning away the cum from their last adventure. Magnus takes the gun from his mouth (he’ll never tell Alexander the safety was never on) and turns his baby around on his lap so that they are both looking out towards the crowd as his own fingers leisurely find their way back to his baby’s hole.

It’s his favourite place to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this sequal and it lived up to your expectations - probably not lets be honest here. Please don't be afraid to leave me your suggestions, in fact I greatly encourage it! So don't hesitate to tell me what you liked, didn't and would like to see in the future.


	7. Its the ho ho holidays

Alexander Lightwood was many things. A Shadowhunter. A fighter. Insane. Batshit crazy. Magnus Bane’s lover. What he was not was good at picking presents. It was well known by his family in the pre-magnus years and Magnus and his downworlders in the post-magnus year that if you wanted good present from Alexander, you needed to tell him wanted you wanted explicitly. But, as the raven haired man thought, this year he wanted to get something by himself, something that his daddy would really like.

This brought him to _Agent Provocateur._

Alexander had found it by accident when he was out smashing things with his mallet, namely elder Shadowhunters who couldn’t keep their opinions to themselves. The lingerie shop was exactly the kind of thing Magnus would appreciate. Scantily clad models with lingerie designs that would make the _perfect_ gift for Magnus. And himself if all went to plan.

He’d remembered the store location and came back later. They had been closing up but _well_ … the trail of bodies behind him meant the store stayed open. Perfect. The blood on the walls and his porcelain skin complemented the area he thought to himself as he tried on another adorably sinful outfit. Maybe this was harder than he thought, so many designs, so little time.

After another hour of shopping, and three increasingly frantic phone calls from daddy himself, Alexander had finally finished his Christmas shopping for Magnus. Everyone else this year could gladly go fuck themselves if they wanted something. The Shadowhunter left the shop with bag in hand and hit the main street once more; once upon a time he would have glamoured himself away from the mundanes, worried at them seeing him and being seen in general but after Magnus…well he doesn’t want to anymore. The looks he was receiving for todays outfit was more than enough to fuel his ego. Alexander couldn’t deny the thrill of excitement he got when he saw the more than appreciative looks he got for his black short, knee high white converse, black crop top, white fur lined coat combo. If Magnus was with him, more than a few heads would be turning.

Seeing his loves apartment a few doors away, Alexander couldn’t help his joy and squeal of excitement! Magnus was going to love his gift, and if he showed his appreciation the way Alexander expected him to, he believed he was going be happier than when he had smashed his fathers face into the ground with his hammer. Without waiting any longer, Alexander ran to his daddy’s house, blood splattered grin wide on his face, and clambered up the stairs to sleep- Santa wouldn’t come overwise.

 

* * *

 

Christmas morning ad started off in the best possible way. Sex. Magnus had taken him lovingly and slowly from behind, stretching him in a way that would keep him satisfied for days, the dull throbbing from his ass a welcome pain. He’d stored his gift away for the night – it was a special occasion after all – and was now on his way to where Magnus had kept his present. How exciting! A present away from home, Alexander hoped it would be a new torture vault after their old one had become to old fashioned.

The limo – imagine that, a limo, his daddy really did like to live the highlife as high warlock of Brooklyn – dropped them off outside a warehouse, from where Alexander could hear some muffled noises. With a Cheshire grin, Magnus led him inside where twelve people, six Shadowhunters and six downworlder’s, were bound and gagged to metal chairs blood streaming down their faces. Wordless, Magnus turned to one corner of the room and brought forth a table full of tools, each hand wrapped by his love, and ready to use.

It mattered not what these people had done, only that Magnus had given them to him to do with as he wished. And oh how he loved him for it. In front of everybody, Alexander didn’t particularly care at this point in his life, the Shadowhunter began a repeat performance of that morning, happily riding his lover into the concrete ground below, his Santa Claus skirt hiding their connection from sight.

Magnus thought his baby had chosen a lovely Christmassy outfit for the day. A low cut red corset lined with pearly white that showed off his deliciously muscular flat chest – the warlock had had an awful time stopping himself from licking and biting it at every moment – combined with a mini red skirt with white lining the edges that reached the top of his thighs and finished off with knee high blood red heels. He looked perfectly sinful and Magnus had spent the entire morning hard, his cock bulging in his trousers as he tried not to fuck his baby on every available surface.

For now, after what had to be the best possible sex he’d ever got, Magnus was quite content watching his baby making his way through the ranks, burning skin, ripping out nails, breaking bones, mutilating bodies and murdering his enemies. The way the blood poured from them and showered onto his darling was incredibly erotic – no doubt it would be used for material when his baby wasn’t around for a couple of nights.

Eventually, after his baby had finished playing and killed everyone, Magnus pulled his Alexander tight to his body and began licking into the cavern of his mouth, moaning at the strongly metallic taste he found. His hands, golden against the snow white of his lovers skin, trailed a pathway downwards, one hand deftly palming his lovers erection, the other scissoring his fingers into the mess of cum and spit seeping out of his hole. _God_ , his baby was dirty, he loved it. Lusted it. With a coy smile and whine in his throat, Alexander walked backwards, towards the blood soaked floor and held out his hand, inviting Magnus down with him as he lay down, hands using the blood to prepare himself openly and loudly.

It was without hesitation that Magnus joined him on the floor and connected their bodies with blood, sweat and cum.

 

* * *

 

The evening was a calmer affair. Raphael visited with Simon, Luke with a random pack mate, and the six sat down and had a wonderful meal together, talking of past Christmases and traditions. When the meal was over they watched classic film after film, _the grinch, miracle of 34 th street, white Christmas. _The six watched, happy and content, ignoring the outside world for some time – they would sort out all of the miscreants and chores tomorrow, killing could wait – And Alexander began to slowly wind Magnus up from the start of the second movie.

Skilfully, he slowly shifted left and right, squirming on his lovers lap in minute patterns; small enough not to be seen, big enough to be felt. Halfway through the movie, Magnus had gripped his waist and growled out a warning in his ear, sending hot shivers down his spine and a determination in his mind. Alexander was relentless. He moved faster and more obvious, in Magnus’ ear he let out small moans and pleas _please daddy, please, I’ve been a good boy._

After the third film, Magnus could stand no more. Abruptly he made the others leave the apartment, shutting the door behind him with a deadly bang. He turned, slowly and menacingly, to face the smaller male on his couch, eyes darkening at the innocent yet sinful view. He began to move forward, stalking towards his baby like a hunter, when Alexander stood suddenly and bade him to stay where he was. A curious glint of madness settled in his chest and Magnus, as a special Christmas gift, followed the younger man’s command, allowing him to take charge.

And was he glad he did.

After a few short moment in the bedroom, Alexander came out in what had to be the most tantalising thing he’d ever seen. A lack black brassier adorned his chest, cupping his pecs and pushing them upwards, his nipples peeking over the top. Magnus licked his lips and carried on his downwards view of his baby. A suspender, in equally sinful black lace, cuts around his lithe waist and connects down to a pair of garters adorning the tops of his baby’s thighs, highlighting the muscle there and emphasising the distinctly mouth shaped bruises littered on the porcelain skin. Knee high sheer black socks cover the rest of his leg and lead his eyes onto the scant black panties that cover his baby’s most prized possession.

The room was silent for a moment as Magnus continued to stare, wide eyed and lustfully, at his baby standing, nibbling his lower lip. Slowly, as if he were in a museum, Magnus began to walk around Alexander, eyes frantically taking in every inch of skin and black lace as more and more of the outfit was revealed. The assless covering of the suspenders sent a thrill of arousal down his spine and Magnus became aware of the hardness of his cock. The warlock resolved to take a photo of his baby before he forgot – this was a sight he wanted to remember.

Outstretching his hand, Magnus was beckoned by his siren, and stumbled closer, mind focused on grabbing hold of his baby and fucking him roughly and continuously. He wanted to take him against the wall, on the floor, take him pressed up against the window where everybody could see. He wanted to hear him moaning, whining, mewling, **_screaming_ **from underneath him, panting with harsh breaths as Magnus took him _one more time_. Magnus wanted to fuck him hard, soft, slow, fast. Make his baby drip with cum and sweat, throat hoarse and eyes glazed over. He wanted him wearing the lingerie whilst he did it, force him to remember what exactly this outfit had done to him. “Merry Christmas baby,” His lover whispered huskily and Magnus took note that Alexander had begun to palm himself through the lacy fabric. Finally reaching him, the warlock ripped the pale hand away and replaced it with his own warmer, harder touch, gripping harshly and moving quickly.

Against his mouth, Alexander breathed his pleas and desires onto his lips, sinful little requests that would fill Magnus’ dreams and the recordings on his phone. _Oh Daddy, please, please, ah, ah, oh, dad-ugh, again, harder, harder, please._

Licking his lips once more, Magnus eagerly consumed his baby. Dominating and devouring his mouth as if it were a sacrifice, licking into the hot, wet cavern with an urgency unparalleled. “The things you do to me baby, have you been a good little boy this year?” The warlock breathily asked, the corner of his lips rising into a coy smirk. Alexander’s reply was a breathy moan, loud and long, that had him rocking his hips into the other.

“I’ll take that as a no then.” Magnus resumed his kissing, pulling his baby in by the neck and licking into his mouth, eager to dominate again. Alexander, in all his power, submitted to Magnus, unable to do anything but let his daddy have his way with him. Shakily he pushed against the elders shoulder, forcefully putting a small amount of distance between them. 

" _Ah_ , Daddy.

"Yes?"

"I've got more designs to show you,"

Without a word, Magnus picked him up. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry holidays everybody!!!! Hope you all have a lovely day full of joy and happiness spent amongst friends and family. If not, please consider me your family for today and I will reign tidings of love to you. Here is my holiday treat to you all so I hope you enjoy it ad don't forget to leave me comments filled with your prompts.  
> Once more, happy holidays!!!!!!
> 
> To those who don't celebrate, I hope you all have a wonderful time to around this festive period and feel free to include yourselves as part of this merry gang in celebrating.


	8. Wild things

Hodge Starkweather was a man from a simple background who had risen to the top. If you asked him, his power and wealth now rivalled that of high warlock of Brooklyn himself Magnus Bane, who was probably shitting himself at the prospect of having a Shadowhunter so close to taking his title of king of the Shadow world away from him.

It hadn’t been easy, especially after Alexander Lightwoods infamous rejection of the clave to become said warlock’s crazy bitch. But Starkweather was clever, he knew he was, and so through a series of bribes, threats and coercions to the correct people he now sat at the top of the Shadowhunter food chain as well as second in the Downworld chain – as soon as he rid himself of Bane then he would be the king he knew he was.

It was his power that had prompted Alexander Lightwood to come crawling back on his hands and knees to the very society he had abandoned. At first Starkweather was dubious about allowing Alexander into his inner circle, his devotion to the cat-eyed warlock was well known and their love making had been varied and public many times, but his inclination to capture, torture and kill people for fun was a little off putting.

Alexander had literally come to him crawling like a bitch in heat, covered in the blood of Downworlder’s he had slaughtered and begged to be allowed into the inner circle of the man in charge. He hadn’t wanted to first but the young boy showed his true colours through his words and pleas ‘ _you are the strongest, Magnus is nothing compared to you’_ and honestly, how could he refuse the boy entry when he so clearly knew who was in charge.

Magnus Bane had nothing now.

Ever since he’d allowed Alexander to join his ranks, the pair of them alongside another Shadowhunter by the name of Malachi had been plotting to bring down Magnus effectively and in such a manner which would send a strong message around the entire Shadow world – Hodge Starkweather was the king.

Unfortunately during this time Alexander had not spread his legs for him as he once had for his ex-lover. The raven haired, blue eyed boy strutted around the institute in booty shorts and thigh high skirts, cropped tops and corsets, knee high socks and eight inch heels, looking every inch the whore everyone knew him to be, yet never once did he invite Hodge into his bed.

It made him angry. Frustrated. He sat outside the younger boys room every night and listened as he pleasured himself with Hodges very name upon his lips. So why wasn’t he giving himself up like a sacrifice to the god Starkweather knew he was?

No one else dared to touch him, his eyes reflected his insanity and the near constant presence of his oversized mallet was more than enough to deter people from coming near him with unwarranted touches.

Adding that to the fact that Starkweather had banned the boy from killing anyone without his explicit permission (which had prompted a deep pout that Hodge had wanted to fuck straight into), it was easy to see Alexander was pent up and filled with tension. Tension which could be removed with a long, deep session of sex. Hodge hated having to put a leash on the boys actions ( _literally_ in some rather imaginative fantasies) as he knew it only frustrated him further.

But tonight. Tonight was going to be different.

He, Malachi and Alexander had created a plan that was impossible to get around and would ensnare Magnus Bane to do with as they wish. Hodge couldn’t wait until the lecherous warlock was in their midst, powerless and without his title, forced to watch as Hodge fucked his ‘baby’ over and over again like the willing whore he was. Perhaps he’d be merciful and allow the demonic man once last conjugal visit before killing him painfully and slowly.

Perhaps not.

By now their plan was in motion. Magnus would be preparing for a ‘meeting’ with himself and Malachi - probably taking over an hour to do so with the way he was – before heading down to a ‘secure location’ down by the docks. The warlock would arrive under the pretence of having a meeting regarding Alexander; the warlock would come and probably demand they hand the traitor back over to him to be dealt with accordingly and he probably thought they would feign a lack of knowledge regarding the younger Shadowhunter – they had not seen him or perhaps they had already killed him.

In reality, once the warlock reached the warehouse he would be set upon by more than ten Shadowhunters under his command alongside multiple demons of all ranks. Magnus Bane **_would_** be taken prisoner and he **_would_** see Alexander’s devotion no longer aimed in his direction. A broken heart would just be the icing on the cake.

Hodge and Malachi would not be in attendance, however. They were currently celebrating their spectacular and clever win over the warlock, and it did not matter that to him that they had not yet captured the man as Alexander assured them it was a secure plan that wouldn’t fail. Their celebration was to be an eventful and deeply pleasurable reward. A reward for their patience, their strength, their intelligence, their general betterness in life and over the Warlock.

Tonight they were fucking Alexander.

They were all stood in his bedroom, Malachi and he in simple t-shirts and jeans – all black of course- whilst Alexander stood before them in a cut off white blouse that reached mid torso, a grey pleated skirt that rested against his porcelain thighs and small frilly white socks. He looked like an indecent school boy, hoping to improve his grades by seducing his teachers. _Well if that’s how he wants to play it_. Alexander was, after all, a little over a decade younger than he and Malachi at 18.

Hesitant with arousal Hodge made the first move, kissing into Alexander’s mouth with unbridled passion and possession. His tongue plundered the mouth hungrily, his tongue seeking out every crevice and sucking on the skin of his lip. His hands hastily began to undo the buttons of his blouse and he parted from the boys ravishing lips to allow Malachi a chance to plunder them for himself.

Starkweather watched with hungry eyes as Alexander submitted so easily under his hands and Malachi’s tongue. _What a whore._ The boy had his hands resting on the shoulders of Malachi, pulling himself further into the devouring lips, and Hodge began his descent downwards. He kissed down the teenagers chest, sucking, biting, nibbling at his perk and pink nipples, enjoying the noises which forced their way out of the boys throat.

Malachi stood back and watched his careful actions, eyes darker than night as he followed the pathway of Hodges hand. Hodge now knelt before the boy and raised his hands up beneath the skirt as if searching for a treasure, trailing his fingers against the milky thighs in reverent delight and worship. With shaking hands he felt for the boys panties, a shot of arousal flying through them at the feeling of lace and pulled them down slowly and possessively.

He helped Alexander step out of them, putting the lace in his trouser pocket for later, and began a slow rise back up. Malachi, bored of waiting, descended on the boys chest, teeth biting and pulling at the lithe and unblemished skin before him. Wasting no time the two men pushed Alexander back towards the bed and the boy landed securely in Hodges lap, ass sitting directly above his hard and dripping cock.

He began to writhe and mewl at the sensation, his hips undulating back and forth at the feeling of the solid and heavy dick pressed up against him, and Hodge welcomed the boys caresses of his chest.

No doubt the boy was impressed by his abs.

Hodges own hands began a path of exploration, trailing possessively down the ivory chest, clutching at his hips hard enough to leave bruises before curving around to fondle the smaller boys ass. _Raziel_ , what an ass. Plump and firm, he could fit the perfect globes neatly into each hand, and did so with a fever, pushing and pulling at the skin as hard as he liked. From the way Alexander moaned above him, the boy appreciated the manhandling as well.

From nowhere descended a golden liquid smelling of flowers and apples, showering Alexander’s gorgeous chest in rivulets that trailed along the skin and defined his muscles. _Champaign._ From above, Malachi began licking the liquid from the boys mouth, tongue hungrily swiping away at the trail coming from his mouth.

Not wanting to be beaten, Hodge began licking and tasting the liquid off of the boys chest, lips attaching to the perk nipples and sucking hard to taste the golden river. His fingers lowered slightly, reaching towards the curve Alexander most precious part, _his prize_ , when suddenly a chocking, gargled sound emitted behind him.

In an instant blood came forth and sprayed the ivory boys chest and face in a shower of death and it was with an abject horror that Starkweather saw the appearance of a manic grin on Alexander’s face.

_They had planned everything_.

Malachi’s body was thrown across the room, his nearly headless corpse latching onto a ceiling fan and spinning like a helpless rag doll, blood flowing out everywhere. A hand, golden and strong, came from behind him and harshly grabbed a hold of his neck, pulling his body into a solid wall of muscle and slowly chocking the air from him.

“ _Puddin!”_ Alexander yelled from his position on his lap, eyes widening in both madness and love. His arms opened wide and he reached over Hodge in order to latch his arms around Bane’s neck and plant a loud, wet kiss upon his cheek before settling back down. Even in his half dead, trapped position, Starkweather still appreciated the view of a dishevelled Alexander clad only in a thigh high skirt and frilly socks.

A chuckle resonating through his chest stopped his thoughts and a happy sight of “Baby” made him realise just how much trouble he was in. By now his vision was starting to go black and Magnus showed no sign of letting up. On his lap Alexander squirmed in mock anger and a pout formed on his sinful lips, eyebrows burrowing on his forehead.

“I thought you were going to leave me here…” he whined, voice petulant as a child’s but his eyes sharp and calculating like an adult. Alexander wanted something from his lover. Hodge just hoped that Magnus would let him breath soon. “Leave me to be fucked by those two perverts.” He wanted to protest, Alexander was of age and every party was consenting, but it probably want the correct time to really argue this point.

Especially with Magnus’ hand tightening even further against his neck.

“Never baby, you know I love you far too much for that.” The relaxing of Alexander’s shoulders was noticeable, and the manic light in his eyes faded slightly at the reassurance. The two seemed lost in their own world, Alexander absently rocking his hips against his still present arousal and Magnus tightening his grip _even further_.

Malachi’s body still swung from the ceiling, releasing a stream of blood that landed perfectly across Alexander’s porcelain skin, painting it a dark, sinful, colour.

He let out a chocked noise and two sets of eyes, filled with insanity and lust, stared at him as if appraising a piece of meat. Hodge could only gulp loudly. Alexander promptly left his lap, swinging his legs up high to stand up – perfectly showing both he and Magnus Bane the absence of underwear under his skirt – and headed to the corner of the room, putting on a show for his lover by swinging his hips side to side.

Magnus chuckled darkly and threw Hodges body of the bed, laughing openly as he landed in a slump on the floor, head lying flat and ass up in the air. “I wonder, my angel, if they planned to have you in this position?” The warlock wondered idly and Hodge felt rage burn through him like never before. How dare this man, this _demon_ , enter his institute and proceed to take the whore from him.

He began to get up when a foot slammed heavily onto his head, forcing it back onto the floor, and his eyes rose in fear to see Alexander grinning madly at his from above, hand holding his mallet tightly. Magnus moved to stand behind his lover, golden cat eyes watching in amusement at the sight of him on his knees.

Hodge saw a golden hand reaching subtly forward and under the skirt of the Shadowhunter, heard the slight gasp and moan of its name from Alexander before both their attentions were drawn back to him.

“Now then, what to do with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell, the semi-sex scene was inspired by the movie wild things, but not written as wonderfully as the scene itself. Please exscuse my hideous sex writing as well, im still getting used to it. Please comment on what you liked, didn't and any prompts you may have. This one shot collection relies on your suggestions so I love you all when I get given them, so please keep them coming.
> 
> Additionally i am looking for a fic if anyone can help me. Its about Alec being a shadowhunter/warlcok hybrid and being locked up by Maryse and Robert in the institute before being rescued by Magnus. He is then hunted by both of his parents and sebastian whilst being taught about his powers by Magnus, Cat and Ragnor. If anyone knows which story this is, please help me!


	9. Dr Alexander Lightwood

How long exactly had they been planning that damn plan? It must have been _years_ in the making in order to capture him, the Great Magnus Bane. One slip up, that’s all it was, one tiny slip up and the Shadowhunters had descended on him in a tirade of weapons, arresting him and transporting him to the Alicante psychiatric hospital within the space of a couple of hours.

They really wanted him out of the city

They’d stripped him of his fashionable clothing once he’d been processed, replacing it with the standard – and frankly appalling – institution outfit. Plain black trousers which didn’t even fit him, they were too short and showed off his ankle above what was fashionable, and a tight white straight jacket.

He wouldn’t have minded the jacket by itself, he’d been in kinkier situations in his life which had prepared him for such situations, but the cuffs were laced with anti-magic adamas which prevented him from doing anything harmful.

What a clever bunch those Shadowhunters.

So far, after only a two weeks of being institutionalised, Magnus had gone through at least ten of the so-called best ‘psychiatrists’ that the Shadowhunters had to offer and he was beginning to get bored. He missed his magic, he missed his clothes, hell he even missed Raphael!

What the fuck was he going to do?

Today however he’d been assigned someone new to take over his ‘care’ and was waiting anxiously to meet them – whoever they were. It was always entertaining to watch as he disturbed their minds and corrupted them from the inside out. How eager it seemed for the clave to send their own members off to be eaten by the beast they knew him to be.

But something told him that this new person was going to be something…. _special_.

The consul – Imogen Herondale herself – had come to speak to him about this person, explicitly telling Magnus that they were the best of the best. She had never said a name, nor a gender, she hadn’t even hinted at how old this person might be.

_Curiouser and curiouser cried Alice._

What she had told him instead was that Magnus was not to bend this person to his will or break them emotionally. She really shouldn’t have said that as it only made him want to try harder. He hoped this person was young, or at least the Shadowhunter version of young for a professional psychiatrist, so far the stuffy old men and women that had been sent before had neither been cooperative to him or remotely attractive.

Which was a shame as Magnus needed new masturbation material.

So here he was, patiently sitting at the small table they’d assigned him, with two guards stood slightly behind him with an abundance of weapons adorning their bodies and a further two by the doors.

The chair beneath him was too small for his tall, muscular frame, and the cold metal was really starting to irritate him; he hoped this person wouldn’t be too long or annoying – he wasn’t sure he could handle that right now. As always his hands were tied securely behind his back, tight enough so that he could scarcely move them an inch, and they had tied his exposed ankle to the leg of the chair.

Whoever this person was, they didn’t want to take the chance of Magnus getting near him.

The chair opposite him was still vacant and the clock ticking slowly on the wall showed that this supposed ‘best of the best’ was running late. How _annoying_. He was having to wait for a meeting he didn’t even want! How unfair of the Shadowhunters.

Suddenly the light above the door pinged a shallow yellow and the automatic locks began to move, the door creaking slowly as it opened to reveal the person entering.

Magnus felt his heart stop and his mouth open into a wide sadistic grin.

Before him stood the epitome of all his wet dreams and fantasies. The boy – for surely he could be nothing else with his youthful glow – was tall with excellently long legs, lithe waist and willowy body tone. His hair was black and thick, falling in front of his eyes and trailing down to the cutting edge of his jawline, his eyes were blue, bluer than the sky on a perfect summer morning, deeper than the ocean during a storm.

They were so full of _innocence_ that Magnus couldn’t wait to corrupt the boy in front of him – maybe even make him something more. It had been years since he’d last taken a permanent lover.

He moved cautiously, more than aware of the danger Magnus presented, but there was a hint of respect in the way he lowered his beautiful eyes slightly and bowed his head almost unnoticeably. How… _interesting_. Clearly this Shadowhunter ‘psychiatrist’ was different to those previous and was more than aware of Magnus’ status in the world.

Good, when he finally got revenge on this place, he might spare the boy’s life for such actions. He pulled his chair out and offered a smile to Magnus -  it was unexpected and entirely off-putting, when was the last time someone had just _smiled_ at him? – before sitting down. He pointedly ignored the choked off breath of the guard who had seen the smile and proceeded to place all his documents down.

“Good Morning Mr Bane, my name is Alexander Lightwood and I will be your psychiatrist from now on.”

Ohhh, this was going to be _fun._

* * *

 

 

They were playing a dangerous game together. So far Magnus had been in the institution for a further month – _far too long –_ and Alexander had remained his psychiatrist the entire time. But they had changed.

Alexander thought he was helping him, supporting him whilst trying to ‘cure’ him off all the evil in his body. The Shadowhunters wanted to strip away everything that made him _him_ and turn him into another one of their pet warlocks for convenient use. He was never going to succumb to them, he’d take them all to hell before he let that happen.

But _Alexander._

Every time he came to visit Magnus, every time he had tried to ‘cure’ him, the warlock used every technique he could think of to turn the tide of power. Slowly and unnoticeably he’d began to break the young Lightwood down, turning him against the very blood running through his veins and making him into the perfect minion.

The poor boy never even noticed.

“Dr Lightwood” he purred as the boy sat down. He didn’t fail to notice the slight shiver than ran up the boys spine or the way in which his sinful lips widened in happiness at the acknowledgement. _Soon,_ Magnus thought gleefully, _soon this boy shall be mine_.

“I live for these moments with you.” He continued, not entirely false in his declaration. Alexander’s little giggle at the words made his own smile rear up.

Whilst he didn't _live_ per se for their interactions, it was a large part of his day and the main reason he still found happiness in this godforsaken place. He could only imagine what was happening in the Downworld without him.

He imagined that if any guards would have been in the room, they would have scoffed at his obvious flirting, but Magnus had convinced Alexander to get rid of them a long time ago. The boy had agreed quite eagerly Magnus recalled.

“What do you got?” He questions, able to see that Alexander clearly had something he shouldn’t clutched in his hands. The good Dr was only supposed to bring in his documents – anything else was prohibited.

“I got you a kitty.” The younger boy declares happily, presenting to Magnus the cat plushie that looked surprising like Chairman meow himself. Absently Magnus wondered who exactly was looking after his darling.

The gift was extremely thoughtful and Magnus  couldn’t hide just how much he loved it. “How thoughtful.” And therein lay the problem. Alexander thought he was helping Magnus, curing him, but in all factuality he was falling in love and the warlock knew it – could see it in those blue eyes every time they sought him out.

On its own, Magnus would have delighted in corrupting a Nephilim to the point of falling for him but his problem lay in the fact that he himself had fallen for the Nephilim, which simply was atrocious. He was _Magnus Bane_. He didn’t love, he fucked, he killed!

But no, he loved Alexander and knew very well he wouldn’t believing the little Nephilim behind when he escaped.

For now though, he had a few…additionally requests to make of Alexander.

 

* * *

 

 

The entire building was in chaos. Downworlder’s had stormed the building in a fire tirade of bullets, magic and venom; they killed whoever they came across, regardless of if they were a prisoner or a Nephilim. Magnus strode down a corridor happily dressed in his own clothes once more and feeling like himself.

Finally, after two months of being in this dreadful place he was getting out. After today the Shadowhunters wouldn’t be so foolish about arresting him again, they would know they could never win.

He hurled his hands out, blasting his magic into the oncoming wave of Shadowhunters and disintegrating them instantly, smiling when their warm blood splattered on the walls. Good, he couldn’t have anything on him.

After all, he wanted to make a good impression.

Further down the hall he could hear the sounds of Alexander in distress. His boy was screaming and shouting for people to get off him and let him go, yelling for any help to come and save him; Magnus was aware Alexander was a prolific fighter but even he could not fight off a group of five magically jacked up Downworlders by himself.

When the sound quietened down Magnus made his presence known, striding into the room with tight leather trousers and no shirt – glad to be showing the Shadowhunter the toned lines of his stomach and his various tattoos. “What do we have here?” he questioned sarcastically, shining a harsh white light into those blue eyes he loved so dearly and watching amused as the boy struggled from his tied down position on the table.

“I did everything you said” A soft voice interrupts his musings, “I helped you.” Confusion lines his voice and it is obvious Alexander doesn’t know what exactly is happening or what to expect. He doesn’t struggle too much, only enough to look like he cares about his freedom away from Magnus, but his confusion is genuine and the warlock can tell that Alexander truly believed he was curing his patient.

He gets angry at this innocence. Goes on a rant about his memories and the callousness with which they were treated. He slams his hands down either side of Alexanders head in anger as he explains the state of emptiness and confusion the boy had left him in. “What are you going to do?” He simply asks, cocky yet enamoured smile lighting up his face – he knows now, or at least has some idea of what’s going to happen to him – “Are you going to kill me Mr B?”

His voice is breathless, soft and flirty and Magnus realises with a jolt of lust that something about this scenario is turning the boy on. He wonders, is it the promise of pain, is it being ties down or is it (most probably Magnus thinks) the dominance Magnus is currently displaying over him?

Oooh, he loves this boy. Such cockiness, such playfulness.

“Oh, I’m not gonna kill you.” He croons, voice silky smooth and throaty. He’s playing with a device, something he wanted to use on Alexander the moment he realised his love for the blue eyed beauty, and he rotates the hand-held elements around the boys temples, playfully taunting him with pain.

“I’m just gonna hurt you…really, really bad.” He begins to lower the device to Alexander’s temples, anticipation making it all the more exciting. The metal handles will send an electrical current around the boys brain, hurt him in unimaginable ways, but it will hopefully dislodge any sanity he has clinging in his mind.

Then, and only then, will he be fully susceptible to Magnus’ charms.

Alexander gets cocky, tells him that as a Shadowhunter he can bare the pain easily, promises he won’t break – and Magnus is inclined to believe him. But even so, he hastily removes the belt from his trousers and secures it in between the boys sinful mouth, “I wouldn't want you to break those perfect porcelain cap teeth when the juice hits your brain.” He explains, seconds before he forces the metal handles down onto his temples.

Alexander screams bite through the belt and Magnus had never felt more alive.

 

* * *

 

 

They are in one of Magnus’ many warehouses, vats and vats of acid bubbling away below the platform they are currently standing on. Alexander had truly been a… _faithful_ companion, refusing to leave Magnus’ for very long – even when the man himself growled for him to go away.

Now it was time for the final test. After this Magnus would have no reason to doubt the love Alexander claimed to have for him; it would be nice to have his feelings fully reciprocated for once.

“Question” he begins, prompting Alexander to tear his eyes away from the vats below and into the golden green of his own orbs. “Would you die for me?”

Alexander’s answer is instantaneous “Yes”, but Magnus has asked that question too many times to too many people and he knows that often people say yes to get what they want from him. No…he wants to know for definite that Alexander Lightwood was the one for him.

“That’s too easy” he says to himself, musing on the different ways he can get Alexander to do what he wants easily. “Would you…live for me?” He sees the moment Alexander understands what he’s asking, understands the implications of his question – it is quite a charming thing to witness; Alexander eats up knowledge like a dying man and stores it away for some point in the future.

His answer is slower this time, stronger, more confident, and Magnus can feel the manic smile that easily comes onto his face (smiling wasn’t something he really did before Alexander) “Yes”

Magnus responds instantly, walking forward towards the Shadowhunter and forcing him to take a step back, closer to the edge, closer to his end. “Careful…” he warns “Do not say this oath thoughtlessly, desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes…power” His voice is low, dangerous, but Alexander’s eyes remain bright and focused on his lips, absorbing his words and turning them over in his head.

“You want this?” He asks again, he needs to be _sure_

“I do” The younger boy declares, blue eyes sharp with passion and determination. He takes a step closer to Magnus and the warlock brushes a finger over his bottom lip, yearning with all his heart to kiss the plump skin he feels. _Not yet_ he reminds himself _soon_.

“Say it” he begs “say it, say it.” His thumb presses down on the lip, exposing his Shadowhunters perfect teeth – _wonderfully preserved_ – and his voice becomes breathy, almost silent in his need.

“Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty…”

“Please.” Oh, oh, his darling is simply delightful. His voice is barely there, lust and desperation reducing it to practically nothing and Magnus is so turned on by the way the words seem almost moaned out of the youngers throat.

“God you’re so…good.” The word doesn’t match what he wants to say, but he knows it does the job. Knows it the moment Alexander outstretches his arms and allows himself to fall backwards, hurtling unafraid into the vat of acid below.

He should walk away now, he even turns his back to begin doing so, and finish with all this nonsense. Having a Shadowhunter lover, especially one so important as _Lightwood_ , would cause him a whole new level of issues from Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike, but he can’t leave. Never before has someone been so willing to put up with him, to love him and Magnus can’t bring himself to abandon Alexander in this place.

With a growl he rips his jacket off his shoulders, exposing his silk red shirt, and dives off the platform, landing with a perfect movement into the vat of acid his love had disappeared into moments ago. He swims down until he grabs hold of the boys blue jacket, pulling harshly upwards until the break surface.

Covered in the acid and floating in the slightly dyed liquid, Magnus is unhesitant to say that Alexander has never seemed more beautiful and before the younger male can say anything, the warlock finally, _finally,_ lowers his lips and latches onto his lovers. He parts from those sinful lips and Alexander breaths life into his lungs, smiling coyly when he realises the position he’s in.

Wrapped tightly in Magnus’ arms.

He reaches a hand up and drags Magnus back down, pressing his cracked lips to those of his lovers and eagerly licking into the cavern of his mouth.

_Oh yes_ Magnus thought as he began to devour **his** baby, Alexander Lightwood was certainly going to be a lot of _fun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, it feels like forever since I last updated this fic but I thought I might give you all a special treat - how Alexander Lightwood came to be. I hope you enjoyed it and dont forget to comment with any prompts you may have. I live to provide you all your wonderful ideas!


	10. Rev up

****

Magnus was not having a good night.

First the group of vampires he’d hired to attack the New York institute hadn’t turned up to the job, so he’d had to get out of bed _far too early_ , leaving behind his warm and comfortable bed with his baby panting and whining to hunt them down.

Then the two warlocks he had to meet about an important spell were late, _completely_ stupid and unprepared, leaving behind a mess bigger than the one his Alexander had made the prior week in the tri-state area with the Shadowhunters, so he’d wasted hours cleaning up after them – and their blood which totally was _not_ his fault.

And finally, Raphael and Simon had cancelled the fancy dinner meeting they’d planned, no doubt too wrapped up in each other to care about attending, so Magnus had been left without plans and his baby hadn’t yet finished his chores for the day meaning he’d been left with doing boring paperwork for the past couple of hours.

To say he was frustrated was a little bit of an understatement.

Absently he heard the front door to the loft open and slam close before the stomping of Alexander’s favourite boots moved along the hallway, stopping at the entrance to his study. “Hey _daddy_ …” Alexander drawled, voice soft and alluring, calling into the depths of Magnus heart and soul; it was the voice he used when all he wanted was to cuddle and talk about their days and the future they could have together.

Magnus, however, felt weary after his absolutely frustrating day and too deeply engrossed in his work and so neither responded or looked at his baby. He kept quiet, angrily writing on different pieces of paper and so didn’t hear the huff of annoyance coming from the door or the angry stomping from $800 boots.

Form on the replenishment of his magical supplies

Check

Money transferred over to New York werewolf pack for services rendered

Check

Complaint from the Seelie’s about his recent killings

Ignored

By the time Magnus looked up from his work, more than five hours had passed in silence and irate pen scratching. His stomach rumbled slightly in hunger and his eyes winced in dryness, but he still had a few forms left and in his frustration he’d made good progress, so he made no move to stop. The world outside could wait for him a little longer, he had nothing important to attend to.

The de facto leader of the Downworld looked down at a couple of schematics for future designs, a mullet for Alexander, a new dancefloor for Pandemonium, a silver chain embedded with spikes to hold and torture his captives and sighed wearily before beginning back up with work, changing and altering the designs.

A slight disturbance at the entrance of his study caused him to turn his head slightly in acknowledgement, but Magnus was too caught up in his designs to look up completely and kept his eyes down; if the person was important he’d know they were visiting.

The table under him shook slightly and pale porcelain legs entered into the periphery of his vision, crawling around and coming to a stop in front of him, the owner of said legs laying out in a tantalising fashion. “Huh-hmm” Came a polite cough from above, intruding on his intense working.

“Go away, I’m busy” Magnus ordered, writing down a couple of notes about improvement he needed to make. His tone was full of gruff anger and a pissed off attitude, warding away anyone who wanted to speak to him.

Above him the ivory legs moved once more, gathering under a lithe, barely clothed body, and strong arms extended out as if holding onto bike handles “Aw come on _puddin’_ don’t you wanna **_rev up your Harley_** vroom vroom”

Magnus wasted no time in throwing his hand straight into the disturbance’s face and shoving them completely off his desk, hearing them land on the floor with a loud thump and whine of pain. Golden green cat eyes finally looked up to see Alexander sat legs akimbo on his floor, pale body covered only by a sheer red babydoll chemise, and face burning in anger and embarrassment.

“Daddy why did you do that!” Alexander cried as he pushed himself up to standing, looming over the seated warlock with a mighty pout on his face. “That was mean” he exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest, pulling the sheer fabric even tighter over his lithe body.

“Because I’m busy Alexander, I don’t always have time for you.” Magnus stated, voice clipped and filled with frustration at being disrupted from his work – he’d had enough of a day without having his lover pull a tantrum on him.

His baby obviously heard the tone of his voice and instantly transformed his features into something sultrier and sexier, gliding forward enticingly and settling down on Magnus’ lap, arms crossing over the back of the elders neck and lips hovering closely above his lovers. “Anything I can do to…change your mind?” He whispered seductively, edging forward slightly to claim the lips he knew so well.

Before he reached them however, Magnus slammed his hands into Alexander’s chest sending him, once more, sprawling onto the ground with a huff of indignation and a yelp of pain. “Magnus!” Alec yelled in anger, face contorting in pain and disbelief.

“What Alexander? I told you I’m busy, I don’t have time for your pathetic and clingy antics at the moment.” Magnus roared, face alight with rage as he scattered his work documents about the room, eyes blazing in fury as he stared down his lover.

“But-“

“But nothing, Alexander! Get your stupid, psychotic, _crazy_ ass away from me right now, don’t you understand I don’t care about what you want, I am trying to finish my work!” Magnus heaved, body tense and prepared to fight as short terse breaths puffed out, nostrils flaring.

His lover said nothing, simply lowered his head and ran from the room arms hanging down by his sides, face flushed in embarrassment. Magnus waited a few moments in silence before hearing the slamming of the front door and loud stomping of boots down the staircase, suggesting that Alexander had left the apartment.

Finally, some peace.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time the clock struck one in the morning, Magnus began to truly worry. He’d known only five minutes after Alexander left that he’d been incredibly rude and guilt consumed him like a tidal wave; he’d put down his work and began to tidy up the house before preparing a romantic dinner in apology.

There he had sat patiently, waiting for his love to return so that Magnus could get down on his knees and apologise profusely for the pain he caused and his lack of attention. But an hour of absence had turned into two, then three and continued on until the full night had passed and a new day began.

Alexander still hadn’t returned.

The dinner had long since gone cold, the candles burned out and the mood destroyed, but still Magnus waited in his seat, eyes wide and alert as they stared at the front door in anticipation. His baby could handle himself, he’d proven so on many occasions, and didn’t need Magnus to track him down and protect him from the myriad of dangers out in the world. Did he?

After many hours of waiting Magnus had come up with a wide variety of reason Alexander hadn’t come home yet, most of them (perfectly sane) ending up with his lover dead in a ditch somewhere bleeding out or left on the side of a road after being used and abused by one of his many enemies. He knew he had no right to worry, after all it was his words that sent Alexander running after all, but Magnus loved his baby with all his heart and the thought of him in pain was almost unbearable.

A sudden thump on the roof diverted Magnus’ attention and he snapped his head upwards, golden green cat eyes flashing in question at the noise. It was highly possible a bird or cat made the thump as animals often found their way onto his roof, but it just as well could be Alexander, who haunted the roof in moments of deep depression or contemplation.

Without a moments hesitation Magnus tore up the stairs, eager to see his baby after so long and hold the shorter male tightly to his body. He slammed open the door and gazed around frantically, desperate to see a familiar shape against the starry outline of Brooklyn. “Alexander!” he called out, voice loud and anxious, hoping to catch the attention of his lover and cause him to stay nearby.

His cat eyes continued to roam the roof, looking beyond the darkness of the early morning and picking out every shape available on the rooftop. A figure, moulded to the side of a wall, caught his attention as shadows moved around it and obscured its identity from the cat eyed warlock. Tentatively Magnus approached the figure, hoping beyond measure that it was Alexander, and held out his hands in both a warning and reassurance – if the person wasn’t Alexander they had to be prepared for a magic shot that would propel their body half way across New York.

The figure moved slightly into the silvery light of the moon and Magnus let out a relived gasp at the sight of Alexander staring hopelessly at him. His blue eyes, often filled with life, seemed dull and emotionless, his posture slumped and arms held tightly around his body.

Belatedly Magnus realised that Alexander was still only wearing the intoxicatingly sinful chemise from earlier with a pair of solid black boots and was probably freezing in the early morning breeze that covered the city. He waved his hand and one of Alexander’s jumpers – his old, oversized and impossibly warm and comfy ones – appeared on the shorter boys torso, allowing him a short reprieve from the cold night air.

“What do you want?” He inquired, voice impossibly quiet and sad, lacking the usual sultriness and hint of love it commonly held. His love sounded tired and Magnus wanted to bring back the baby he knew so well, the one often covered head to toe with Shadowhunter blood after an argument or aggressively riding him into the mattress to work out his frustrations.

“I want to apologise.” Magnus stated plainly, figuring that Alexander wouldn’t appreciate his usual flare for dramatics in this moment, not when he had no one to preform to.

His baby stayed silent, blank eyes looking over the horizon in apparent disinterest and arms fervently crossed over his chest in an act of protection. “I want to apologise for the awful, _hurtful_ things I said to you, and for not paying you any attention. You had a long day too, fighting demons and killing Shadowhunters and unruly Downworlders for me and only wanted some comfort, which I not only refused to give you but also kicked you out of my study for. I can’t apologise enough to you Alexander, but please can you forgive me?”

The rooftop goes silent as Magnus allows Alexander to absorb his words and work them into his mind. His baby can handle light pieces of information well -  a hunting of a demon, the punishment of a Downworlder who betrayed Magnus’ empire – but important things, such as a sincere apology from his warlock lover, Alexander need time for.

“You-you really want me back?” He asks, voice hesitant and uncharacteristically shy, reverting back to the Shadowhunter he first met a little over a year ago back in the Alicante psychiatric hospital. Magnus’ heart breaks at hearing it, realising the extent of the damage he caused his love this evening.

“I will always want you darling, I said what I said in anger, it was stupid and completely untrue. You matter more to me than anyone in the world my love.” He whispers, curling up his fingers and brushing them against the smooth skin of Alexander’s skin, the warmth of his body colliding with the coldness of his lovers.

“I’m sorry for-for being too clingy and _pathetic_ , I’ll find somewhere else to stay if-if you want and I promise to try and tone down my craziness, I know its annoying, especially cleaning up after my messes and-

“Alexander, stop!” Magnus shouts, eyes wide in horror at the rapid rambling falling form his love’s mouth, disbelief showering over him at the pure _hurt_ radiating off the smaller boy stood before him. Alexander shuts his mouth with a rushed ‘sorry’ and audible click, looking down to the concrete ground below and scuffing his boots along the floor.

In this moment he reminds Magnus of a scolded child and once again he feels his heart breaking at the reminder that Alexander wasn’t even _allowed_ a childhood – not in the way most children do.

“Darling, don’t you understand, I love you, most ardently, and I want you to change nothing about yourself. You’re perfect, the way you are now is absolutely perfect and I would never want you to hide away from me or take away things you thought I didn’t like. I love you for you Alexander, I love your craziness, I love your moments of insanity where you make the world light up like fireworks and bring about anything you desire to. I love how clingy you are, when you show me how much you love and care for me, I love the feeling of you pressing up against my side or asking how my days been. I love **you** Alexander, don’t think for a moment I don’t”

The roof descends into silence once more and Magnus waits with bated breath to hear Alexander’s reply. “Okay” he responds plainly, lips widening into a full face smile, cheeks bunching up in pleasure and Magnus watches as the smaller boy stands onto tip toe to press a deep and passionate kiss against his mouth, tongues fighting intensely for dominance. He pulls away, licking at his lips and ignoring the trail of saliva still connecting them together.

“You have a lot to make up for, _puddin’_ ”

And Magnus knows they’ll have to talk about this more, about Magnus lashing out, about where exactly Alexander went for hours and the doubts and insecurities that absorb in his mind. But in this moment, with his baby pressing desperately against him, scantily clad body grinding slightly and whining into the junction of his neck, Magnus finds himself absorbed in other matters.

It’s time to rev up his Harley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for April who requested a nasty argument with Magnus saying something really hurtful. I know you probably expected a different ending but I strongly desired to do something fluffy for this AU and your prompt offered a perfect reason. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoyed and don't forget to comment on what you liked, didn't and any prompts you wish to see written. Please remeber that whilst I do have ideas of my own, this AU strongly relies on you guys as I want you to all have a say in what happens.


	11. Don’t get me wrong, my puddin’s a little rough, but he loves me

Magnus sat back, reclining on the leather sofa he’d strategically placed on a rooftop nearby, as cat eyes examined the area around him, watching with both curiosity and appreciation at the burning fire spreading rapidly over the ground of the Los Angeles institute. It had started about an hour ago with a small blaze gathering speed in the weapons room that expanded outwards before reaching every inch of the building.

 

The Shadowhunters, he noted with heavy amusement, were running desperately around the grounds, looking all the world like the bunch of headless, spineless chickens he knew them to be. It was his baby’s actions that had led to this moment, his idea and execution that meant the institute burning and as Magnus happily observed the chaos he couldn’t help the surge of pride directed towards his baby.

 

Said baby was currently tucked into his side, sucking on a strawberry lollipop that stained his plump lips a bloody red and watching the burning institute with a happy smile etched on his face. The tight leather trousers, two sizes too small sheer black shirt and leather jacket made him look positively sinful and the smudge of soot remaining from his escapades made him look all manner of deadly.

 

It made a fire burn deep within himself.

 

His darling Alexander had only recently joined his side completely, sacrificing his mortality and sanity for Magnus’ love and approval and this had been his first big attack on the Shadowhunters. It had been meticulously thought out and carried out to maximum impact, proving further the depth of his baby’s devotion and Magnus felt the need to congratulate his _Harley_ on what the chaos he’d caused.

“Alexander.”

A non-committal hum of interest arose from next to him, and the cat eyed warlock turned his head fully to gaze down at the shorter man cuddling into his side. Alexander was peering up at him innocently with bright blue eyes that burned in the reflection of flames, mouth occupied with sucking eagerly on the strawberry lollipop clamped tightly in his mouth.

Magnus’ golden eyes latched onto the plump lips wrapped tightly around the ball shaped sweet, watched with lust and eagerness at the pouting shape and slight saliva shining on his lips, absently licking his own with his tongue.

God, he was being tested with this angel.

All he wanted was to congratulate him on his plan.

“You’re such a good boy for me Alexander, I’m so proud of what you’ve done.” Magnus whispers, gently placing a kiss upon his beloveds head. He wouldn’t dare be seen like this with anyone else, would refuse to allow any of his group or right hand men to see the sappy and gushy side of him, but they were alone now and Magnus could express himself freely.

The de facto leader of the Down world can’t have a weakness.

Magnus often shoves his baby away in public, pushes him to the floor or blatantly ignores his attempts to speak or cuddle. He scolds Alexander often, criticises his plans and publicly questions his loyalty to the Downworlders and himself for the sake of retaining his reputation – he can’t have anyone think he’s gone soft.

Alexander knows he loves him, truly he must, and so takes the shoves and pushes, the harmful comments and rebuffs with no comment, brushing them off easily.

Magnus often prefers to bestow praise upon his baby during private moments with Alexander pressed against him with spit shined lips wrapped around a lollipop, tight fitting and sinful looking clothing and small splatters of blood dotting his skin like a rose petal surrounded by snow, he can’t think of a more perfect moment.

But his words don’t get him the reaction he has come to expect – bashful smiles and a deep reddening of the cheeks – instead his darling seems to curl into himself, the fire in his passionate blue eyes dimming and the lollipop being suckled on more slowly and childishly. Magnus cocks his head in confusion, wondering what exactly had gotten into Alexander to effect his mood so negatively.

Magnus was paying him a comment, he should be grateful!

“Do you mean that?” The smaller boy asks with a quiet voice, tone edged with a hint of insanity.

“Mean what?” Magnus has to clarify, reaching into the prior conversation to find out exactly what it is he’s supposed to have meant.

“That you’re proud of me” Alexander is no longer looking at him, instead turning his blue eyes downward into his lap what he has rested his hands, the lollipop dangling sadly from his mouth.

“Of course I do!” Magnus snaps back immediately, voice affronted and insulted. How dare his baby question his words, give them less meaning and ponder over them with insecurity. He’s damn proud of Alexander for creating and instigating a plan which lead to the injury of and death of many Shadowhunters and he doesn’t appreciate being questioned on that stance.

Alexander remains quiet for a moment longer, cuddling into Magnus’ side a little more as if trying to sap all the warmth from his body and store it within his own. The warlock had told him not to wear a sheer top but his darling had been adamant it was the only shirt that worked with his outfit.

“Its, its just that –“ Alexander can’t seem to get his sentences out, cant seem to get his emotions and thoughts out in the open and Magnus understands. The process his baby went through to get to this stage has left his brain more than a little muddled and it will take some time for him to be able to process and work things out quickly.

“You’re so mean!” The whiny, almost childlike declaration is unexpected and forces Magnus out of his mind, golden eyes burning as they turn to focus sharply on his younger lover. Alexander is staring right at him, fire blue eyes burning once more and pretty red stained mouth pouting in a tempting fashion. The lollipop is being branded at him like a weapon and Magnus can’t help the slight smirk that overtakes his face at the sight of it.

“You push me around in public and insult me in front of your friends, you ignore me and hurt me constantly, you bully and abuse me.” Alexander begins his rant and Magnus watches him with golden cat eyes wide in disbelief – his darling doesn’t speak much and rarely with such force or assertiveness.

“And then you find me in some quiet place and tell me compliment, praise me, kiss me. You tell me you love me but I don’t get it, how can that be love! You don’t care about me and you’re ashamed of having such a fucking psychopath for a boyfriend, just like everybody else, you don’t care about me! You don’t’ even acknowledge we’re in a relationship!”

Magnus is shocked into silence for a moment as he listens to Alexander’s words on repeat. All this time Alexander was hurting over his behaviour? All this time he’d been doubting Magnus’ true affections and feelings to him? Magnus was aware that in Alexander’s past life his family – mostly his parents – had been cruel and cold to him, often leaving him out of events and neglecting him for days at a time, sometimes weeks. He knew that Alexander had struggled with older kids in his sparring classes pining him down and beating him up just because of his last name.

He knew that Alexander had been made to be ashamed of his sexuality and that Magnus was his first relationship ever-

And there lied the problem.

It was a sudden moment of realisation and quick reflexes that enabled Magnus to reach out and grab his darling by his waist and pull him back down into their warm embrace. Alexander struggled for a few moments, grunting and whining in an attempt to escape but seemed to release its futility and sat back, slumping down into Magnus.

“Alexander, my love, my darling-“ Magnus begins slowly, kissing his baby’s neck with possessive biting nips and tongue, hands slowly descending downwards, one moving to his thighs, the other beginning to play with the sensitive nipples that are hard and peaked through the shirt. Alexander whines into the movement, releasing a soft moan and brushing his head back ever so slightly, giving Magnus more room.

“You are the most important person in my life and I apologise for making you doubt that-“ His hands have continued downwards until both begin undoing the decorative belt wrapped around his waist and gradually lowering the zipper. His lips have continued their biting and kissing, nipping harder along the line of his Shadowhunters deflect rune; he’s marking it as his and his only, Magnus is not blind to the looks his lover receives from his group.

“I am proud of you, light of my life and fire of my soul-“ Magnus has eased Alexander’s boxers down and leisurely moves his hand up and down the hot flesh of Alexander’s cock, applying a tight pressure that sends his baby whining at a higher pitch and moaning loudly into the night air. His small hips buck into Magnus’ grasp, effortlessly chasing the pleasure the hand brings. In his ear Magnus can hear the sweet begging from his baby _more, more, more_ and moves his hand faster without hesitation.

“Don’t you understand _sugar_ , I’m crazy about you, you’re my baby, mine and only mine.” He growls the words out, biting them into Alexander’s earlobes and making him yelp with pleasure, eyes hazy with delirium. His hand moves faster and applies more pressure, drawing out a combination of moans and pleas from his lover, reducing him to nothing more than a whimpering pile in his lap. The blood on his face and the red of his lips are tempting Magnus to whole new levels and he surges down, tongue lapping away at the blood before devouring the lips before him.

He pushes against them, tongue forcing Alexander’s to submit as he sucks and bites, possessing his mouth with a single minded intent, lapping eagerly at the strawberry flavour left behind. His baby waste’s no time in throwing his lollipop in the air before reaching up and cradling his hands on the back of Magnus’ head, pulling him down tighter against his body. The warlock is overcome with pleasure and subconsciously begins to grind up against his baby, clothes cock pushing against his darling’s ass.

Alexander is stuck between bucking upwards into the tight heat of his lovers hand or grinding down onto the clothed hot flesh beneath him.

He moans, wild and unashamedly, uncaring of the institute burning below.

Alexander is close now, nearing that edge which brings him immeasurable pleasure and Magnus moves faster, muttering in his ear about how _precious_ he is, about how _proud_ Magnus is to call such a prize his. He encourages Alexander, orders him to cum as he presses burning kisses onto every inch of skin he can reach.

His baby whines into his mouth, begging _please, daddy please_ and Magnus sucks on his pulse point, letting out a sharp _cum_ and watches enraptured as Alexander’s eyes roll back and he loses himself to pleasure, a milky white substance exploding over Magnus’ hand and his ivory chest.

It is only a matter of moments before Magnus follows, hands holding Alexander’s hips down as he presses up against them, cumming in his pant like a teenage.

Afterwards, when Magnus has cleaned them up and Alexander has once more settled into his side, the warlock draws him closer, planting a soft delicate kiss upon his head and then his nose. He hovers slightly above his baby’s lips, watches how electric blue focuses on the plumpness of his mouth as he speaks and feels a shiver of affection run down his spine.

“I love you Alexander, you are my world.”

 

* * *

 

 

A few days later when Magnus thanks Alexander for his idea and then kisses him squarely on the mouth in front of his closest members, his baby lights up and doesn’t stop smiling until the moment he falls asleep.

Its worth the slight dip in his reputation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for MisunderstoodWinter who requested a deep conversation that leads to love making. Its not love making in the traditional sense but I hope you enjoyed it any how. As always I hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to comment on what you liked, didn't and any ideas you have for future chapters - the ones from before have been really helpful and I loved them all.


	12. Just a little conversation

The meeting Magnus is currently sat in, bored and restless, has been meticulously planned for _months_. It had been a mix of bad timing, tense atmospheres and general disregard to being in each-others presence that had led the leaders of each Downworld faction to take so long in meeting; Luke and Raphael hadn’t been so bad, they did work alongside Magnus most of the time, but the seelies had been a general pain in his ass and made anything just a little bit harder.

Point in fact, this meeting had been planned in April, it was now _August._

Magnus wondered why he’d even bothered at this rate. For the past hour Meliorn had been going on and on about the virtues and benefits of having the Seelie Queen as leader of the Downworld, telling all three other members of the meeting why she was perfect for the role. He didn’t seem to care that Magnus himself was in the room, or that he held the very position his queen was going for. It made him want to blast Meliorn where he sat, wipe that smug expression off his face faster than he can say _Queen._

To their credit, neither Raphael nor Luke look particularly interested in what the Seelie night is preaching, nor do they look ready to join a coup to overthrow his reign.

“Meliorn.” Magnus interrupts in a petulant manner, making sure his distaste for the entire situation is made clear. The Seelie sends him a cold glare, eyes hard and lips pursed, but he’s stopped talking now so Magnus will take what he can get.

He’ll just send a bloody message to the Seelie later on.

Magnus isn’t afraid to admit that, for the most part, his reasoning for wanting to leave, wanting to abandon the very meeting _he_ organised is his darling Alexander. Only a few weeks ago his baby had locked up in prison, helpless and alone, suffering the slurs and taunts of both police and jail mates before Magnus had broken him out with a small gang.

The fight itself had shown the effect prison had on his Alexander, the viciousness of his attacks and bloodthirstiness towards the blond prison guard who had taken advantage; Magnus had chosen not to see the signs.

Alexander had come out different, scared of the world and himself, refusing to leave the apartment or wear his usual clothes with flare. He’d been quiet and mostly unresponsive, clinging to Magnus and his siblings like a lifeline, refusing to talk about what he’d been though and the very sight had almost crushed the ‘heartless’ Downworld leader.

It had taken all of Magnus’ mental strength to stand his ground against Alexander’s spiral into depression and self-hatred, had taken all his power to confront him in a manner of abuse, shouting and screaming until he’d pulled the answer out of his baby’s tearful lips, horrified at the truth that had slipped out.

It’s only been a couple of weeks that his baby has been back to normal - or as normal as Alexander Lightwood will ever be – and Magnus is forever weary of leaving him alone for too long. The warlock won’t admit it to anyone but he’s _scared_ for Alexander, scared what might happen if he thinks Magnus has gone and left him once again, and the drawn out meeting he’s been forced to attend is the last straw on his nerves.

“As…interesting as your proposal is, I think its safe to say that the Seelie Queen will have to remain disappointed with her current position, I refuse to give up my leadership position.”

Meliorn opened his mouth in opposition, brows furrowed in anger at the open disregard to his majesties desires, “Now listen here…”

_Strike two faery_

“Listen nothing Meliorn, no one wants your Queen in my seat. I have shed far too much blood for this position and I refuse to allow a petulant _child_ to take it from me just because she wants it.” He snaps his fingers, blue sparks fluttering from them in a display Alexander would coo at, and Meliorn finds his voice gone, his words silenced for as long as Magnus desires.

On either side of him Luke and Raphael smile and sigh a little in relief, happy to be free from the seemingly never ending parade of arguments the Seelie had forced forwards.

For _Raziel’s sake,_ the meeting was purely to discuss new territory boundaries and for Magnus to punish unruly Downworlders and Shadowhunters in the most brutal ways he can think of; The blood from the last vampire is still wet on his skin, and Magnus is sure a little drop of crimson red is staining the corner of his lips.

Now that Magnus’ main issue has been silenced, the meeting can continue on as normal – mindlessly boring and numbing. How he wishes something exciting could happen, maybe Meliorn combusting into flames would be enough to spark an interest in what’s happening in the room. Luke opens up a folder in front of him, carefully colour coded and labelled to show workings out in the designation of territory, and Magnus can already feel the headache coming on.

Its at that moment his prayers are answered.

The door behind him opens with a bang and Magnus feels his anger flare at whoever is in the doorway; this meeting was closed off and private, no one was allowed in, no one was allowed to disturb them, and yet some low level _goon_ had seemingly decided those rules didn’t apply to him. He turns, blue magic sparking angrily in his hands, and prepares himself to blast the unfortunate-but-deserving soul into the realm of his father.

He’s greeted instead with the vision that is Alexander.

Magnus works his golden green eyes upwards, focusing intimately on every stretch of skin available to him, mouth drying as he takes in what his baby is wearing. Black high heels, sharp and pointed with a killer heel on the back encompass his love’s feet, sculpting his perfect legs and pushing his ass up into a more alluring position.

Long creamy legs are hidden behind  sheer, black thigh high stockings, tightly clinging to his body and defining the muscles Magnus loves to run his tongue over. Pushed over his hips and laying slightly above the end of the stockings, leaving behind a tantalising strip of alabaster skin that the warlock is dying to bite into, is a black pencil skirt. Its unbelievably short and tight to his body, outlining every inch, and Magnus feels his mouth water at the sight of the slight bulge hidden underneath.

A white blouse, unfortunately, covers the majority of his baby’s torso, being tucked into the skirt for a professional finish, and Magnus wants nothing less than to tear it open and devour the pale skin underneath. The tops four buttons are undone, revealing taunt pectoral muscles and the hint of the delightful pink nubs that the taller male loves to suck and bite on.

His Alexander has dressed as a secretary.

Magnus feels the moment his soul leaves his body.

His baby struts forward, a bloody bat haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, and all eyes in the room follow the sway of his hips, eyes dilating rapidly and breaths quickening. If the warlock was in his right mind, Raphael, Luke and Meliorn would be transported out of the room in an instant, perhaps leaving behind their eyeballs as retribution for looking at _his property_ , but Magnus is frozen in a state of arousal and shock and unable to react.

Alexander takes it in his stride, smile widening and eyes blazing as he moves towards the Downworld leaders, and lets outs a light, prideful giggle. He moves quickly, straddling Magnus smoothly and efficiently, pressing their groins together and grinding down, delighting in the moans he gets offered in return.

Every man in the room is wrapped around his finger, and he _loves_ it.

Alexander places his arms around Magnus’ neck, crossing them loosely, before drawing his lover into him, pressing their lips together in a hot desperate mess. Magnus wastes no time and pushes his tongue forward, taking dominance of his baby and devouring his mouth all too eagerly, sucking and biting with all his might.

His tawny hands roam unashamedly, gripping the globes of his _Harley’s_ ass under the skirt and pushing him forwards, placing more sinful pressure on their groins. He gets lost in the sensation of Alexander grinding down, of the mewls and moans he lets slip, of the hot wet feeling of his tongue exploring and dominating.

After a pleasurable yet unknown amount of time, Alexander pulls away, breath short and eyes dazed, a string of saliva connecting them together before the shorter male’s tongue kitten licks outwards and sucks the wetness in. He smirks at Magnus, eyes glazed in pleasure and lips red, before promptly turning round and facing the other members of the meeting. “Well boys, continue on please. I’ll just sit and take notes.”

Suddenly, Magnus thinks, this meeting won’t be so boring after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I know i've been gone a while, but I did some shopping today and washed my sheets, so I thought I might try to write a small chapter. I want to tackle Of Kings and Queen's when i'm 100%, so for now I'm just trying to get back into the swing of writing again. That being said, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please don't hesitate in commenting suggestions/prompts for future chapters - after all this collection relies on you all!


	13. Everybody underestimates me and that’s how I like it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Animelover4life's suggestion of Alec showing his strength to Magnus' followers - hope you enjoy!

They waited until Magnus had no choice but to leave him behind to act. Alexander and their leader, their _Downworld_ leader, had just finished creating plans to go after the LA institute and the warlock had no choice but to go through a portal to gather some necessary supplies that he didn’t trust others with.

The Shadowhunter had claimed to be tired to get out of going and slumped off towards their shared bedroom, scantily clad body sagging slightly under the strain of the day, hair drooping marginally in the presence of the night sky; he hadn’t yet learned to work to _their_ schedule which was only further proof that he didn’t belong, that his presence amongst them was unnatural and should be removed as soon as possible.

It _was_ strange however, that he’d chosen not to go along with their leader, often he stuck like a limpet on his side, begging for attention and craving affection. It was both sickening and empowering to see a Nephilim so taken by one of their own, so desperate for approval and _love_ by one he was supposed to hate.

So far since capturing him, Magnus had shown only limited protection towards the smaller boy, stopping downworlder’s from killing him during the storming of the hospital and dragging him away from dangerous areas of town where downworlder’s wouldn’t hesitate to attack, wouldn’t hesitate to use his pretty pale skin and leave his body bleeding out in an alleyway.

A Nephilim out by himself in those areas was like a fish in a barrel.

_Defenceless._

_Delicious._

So since then they had limited option but to bide their time until the perfect moment made itself known. They’d gathered and planned from the second Magnus had shocked the boy into unconsciousness on the hospital table and carried him all the way to his lair in a bridal carry.

Every time he made an appearance in a meeting, made a suggestion, a comment, exchanged a flirty or dirty look, their hatred for him had festered and grown and additions had hastily been made to their plans to ensure a positive outcome.

They hated everything he stood for, the purity of blood, the superiority of the Shadowhunters, the abuse and discrimination against each of their races. His place was not among them and it was time something was done about it. Magnus had shown him fake affection, how could it be anything but towards a Shadowhunter, and guided the smaller male into believing he was safe and loved.

Their leader, their great and intelligent leader, had lulled the boy into a false sense of security, lead him straight into the middle of a Downworlder den where he would suffer painfully and without mercy.  What a message that would be to the Nephilim. To have one of their greatest soldiers turn to the other side only to be killed by them! They would finally see who the true people of power were.

They’d decided to launch their attack tonight after a full month of waiting.

Some of the higher up Downworld members, regardless of their status as werewolf, vampire, warlock or Seelie, had been invited to stay the previous night in Magnus’ apartment to continue planning the attack on the LA institute and had reported that – before being sent to their rooms for the night – it had been decided Magnus would portal away for resources after the plans were finalised the following day.

It had then been reported to the hoards of blood-thirsty Downworlders waiting nearby that Alexander had decided not to go after his lover, choosing only minutes prior to the warlock leaving to say anything about it. They said, with pleased smiles and deadly eyes, that Magnus was angry at this decision and stormed through the portal, so it was unlikely he would come save his toy; it had also been noted that no security had been supplied to his newest boy-toy either.

It was the sign they needed, the chance they’d been waiting for and nothing was going to stop them from achieving their goal. The second the portal closed and Alexander had entered his bedroom multiple messages had been sent out immediately, informing the hordes in the street below about the lack of protection and vulnerability let off by the Nephilim.

Magnus would be gone for hours, searching and bargaining for the things he needed, so it was unlikely he would stumble across them and the Shadowhunter could hardly call upon his own brethren for aid considering his complete abandonment toward them and his recently declared traitor status.

The boy was alone. _Perfect._

The different leaders had left the Warlock’s home instantly after sending the various preparation messages, disappearing to gather together their groups and go through the plan one last time. It needed to be perfect, it needed to be flawless.

The plan was relatively simple in the grand scheme of things, nothing too strenuous, it was merely the execution which could prove difficult. The attack was in four stages, each faction of the Downworld having a say in what was to happen and followed as thus:

 

  1. **Break into Magnus’ apartment**
  2. **Injure and knock Nephilim unconscious**
  3. **Take Nephilim to a non-descript, hidden location away from society**
  4. **Torture and kill the Nephilim**



Everyone knew the plan and everyone agreed with the plan – at least the _true_ Downworlders did, anyone who disagreed was clearly in the pocket of the clave – and within the hour each group was prepared and ready for attack.

 

  1. **Break into Magnus’ apartment.**



 

Getting to Magnus’ floor was simply enough, probably too easy for a central New York Highrise apartment, with each group going in at different intervals of time to not arouse suspicion from the doormen and alternatively using the lift or staircase to reach his floor. This stage had caused arguments over which group would enter when and through which method, each faction wanting to be first and going up the list, but eventually the disputed had been concluded and the plan continued on.

Eventually, when all groups had assembled onto the penthouse floor and the Werewolves and Warlocks had caught their breath over the sheer number of stairs required, the werewolves moved to the front, their mundane side lending to more discreet methods of deception and law breaking, and the chosen member of the group carefully and quietly picked the lock of the front door.

With an almost inaudible click the door opened slightly, and the alarm system disengaged, leaving them to waltz in like a breeze, without care or worries regarding being caught out. Their plan was failproof and going wonderfully so far, not a single person alerting the current occupant of the house to their presence or dashing forward and ruining everything.

At their current pace the job would be over in less than half an hour and the body could already be disposed of by the time Magnus returned.

 

  1. **Injure and knock Nephilim unconscious.**



 

Thus began the second stage of the plan and the vampire’s chance at playing their part. Due to the undead grace given to their bodies once the venom entered their systems, the vampires could walk without impression, creating no sound and leaving no shadow. 

Just perfect for the job.

Collectively the entire group of Downworlder’s – at least ten of each group – moved towards the bedroom, Vampire’s leading the way with slow movements and crouched bodies. No one knew what would greet them on the other side of the door, if Alexander was awake or not, if he was in the shower or in another room of the apartment. It was entirely possible the Nephilim had stepped out of the apartment whilst the Downworld group had been conversing before attacking, but spies hadn’t reported anything suspicious so it was unlikely.

The best outcome would be if the boy was sleeping already, body completely vulnerable and susceptible for an attack. He wouldn’t be able to fight back, wouldn’t be able to reach the weapons he relied so heavily on for safety and protection. With a hope towards this outcome the group reached the door, everyone present holding their breath in anticipation.

A fledging vampire, by the name of Axel who had set his sights on being Magnus’ before the Shadowhunter ruined anything, was the one to lead the group. Everyone watched as he reached towards the door, his fingers latching onto the handle without a noise. He opened it slowly, cautiously, not the whole way but enough to allow people to walk through the gap without disturbance and a small beam of moonlight to be let in from the curtainless windows of the living area.

When all had gathered in the surprisingly spacious area, bodies pressed together and the room smelling of anticipation and unimaginable anger, Axel performed his second duty of the night and walked toward where he’d been informed the light switch was. With bated breath he reached out one pale hand and felt around for the switch they so desperately needed. The moment was finally here, the moment they’d all waited for day after wretched day had arrived. Once the light was on every Downworlder in the room would launch themselves towards Alexander, incapacitating him on the bed and knocking him out swiftly; if he achieved a few injuries during this stage of the plan, it could hardly be anything less than an accident surely.

Axel turned on the light.

 Alexander Lightwood lay awake on the bed; a seraph blade curled into his hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus sighed unhappily as he looked at his watch. He’d left his Alexander alone for four hours now and was missing his clingy and adorable ways. Magnus had been desperate to return to his lover the moment he left, they hadn’t been separated for longer than a few minutes since after Alexander and his shared kiss in the acid baths a month ago. 

Whilst initially he had been angry towards his sugar’s refusal to come with him for this supply run, thinking about it his lover had been right to do so. The elder had kept the younger boy awake all night with new and inventive pleasures, torturing his nerves and creating strain on his muscles; when his blue eyed beauty had walked out of the bedroom that morning in nothing but a white baby doll dress, limping gait and tired eyes he should have guessed he would refuse to come along.

But finally he had finished all his errands and was staring at the portal that would take him home. He wondered what reception he would receive once he walked through the blue swirling patterns. Would his lover be waiting on hands and knees for him, neck bowed and body prepared? Perhaps he would be welcomed by a home-cooked meal made with love and devotion? (it was a secret talent of his baby’s, the ability to cook being normally removed from the Lightwood family)  

It was possible he’d be greeted with an empty apartment and a lover on the hunt for new targets, but Magnus wasn’t banking on that one.

With a happy inhale Magnus marched through the portal and found himself deposited directly to his living room. The sight that greeted him was nothing like he could have imagined.

His lover was stood in the middle of the room, barely clothed body bathed in dark, venomous blood that was dripping slowly onto the floor below him. His face was layered with wet and dry blood, an extended smile of red painted onto his cheeks and making him appear as evil incarnate. His blue eyes were stormy and wild, betraying a madness hidden deep within, and his hair limp with sweat.

His arms were soaked in blood, not an inch of alabaster skin visible amongst the darkening colour painted onto him. In his left hand a heart was beating, the pulses and rhythms slowly fading as the life force decayed and vanished; it pulsed out blood and splattered a stain onto the carpet when his love dropped it.

Around his feet and decorating the walls, ceiling and floor of his apartment lay the gruesome and destroyed bodies of many Downworlders. Vampires were missing their fangs; werewolves bodies were scarred and unrecognisable from under all the blood. Fey dangled from the ceiling, knives of angelic origin holding their wings captive and suspending their bodies in the air.

A distinct lack of warlock bodies proved they portaled away almost instantly and left their fellow Downworlders to a world of pain and death. Magnus swept his eyes around the room and observed the areas of blood and mashed up body parts now decorating his apartment.

Raising an eyebrow Magnus looked back towards his lover, a smirk appearing on his face at the blissful expression he found. His Alexander was looking directly at him like a child reunited with their favourite toy, seraph blade hanging by the tips of his fingers; he looked almost innocent in spite of the blood, waiting for approval and reward for doing something good.

Unbidden, Magnus felt his smile widen and watched eagerly as his beloved ran forward, uncaring of the blood on his clothes or the spilled guts on the floor, before launching himself in the air to be caught by his taller lover. Magnus caught his young boy happily and without qualm, licking and kissing the blood on his face with vigour.

“What happened?” He questioned some time later, when the blood and bodies were disposed of and Alexander had received his reward for patiently awaiting Magnus’ return.

“I defended myself.” His smaller companion admits casually, hand toying with the skin of Magnus’ thighs and lips occupied with keeping the taller mans cock in his mouth. Over the past month Magnus had realised that in moments of insecurity, exhaustion or dread his lover liked having something in his mouth to suckle or chew on; in intimate moments like this, Alexander’s mouth often found its way to his cock, doing nothing but feeling the weight resting on his tongue and suckling gently.

“From what?” Magnus question again, rolling his eyes at his baby’s lack of information.

“Downworlders who don’t like me.”  The conversation ends there – Magnus might pick it up in the morning to find the names of the warlocks involved and disappeared – and the elder begins gently stroking his baby’s hair in a comforting manner, reassuring both himself and the younger male that both were alive and well.

Today his love had shown his strength the to the Downworld, today he had fought with all odds stacked against him and won.

Never again would he be underestimated by the Downworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and gained some insight into Alec's character. Don't hesitate to comment on what you liked or didn't and any suggestions you have for future chapters. Btw, next Of Kings and Queens chapter should be up within a day or two.


	14. Papa don't preach - Part one

****

Many times in his life Magnus had wondered exactly how he’d ended up in a certain situation. He’d done it in Peru, he’d done it when he’d wrongly assumed red was the perfect colour for his clothing on the day he went to a bullfight, he’d done it when Ragnor had portalled him into the middle of the jungle and taken away his magic for the night.

This moment however, this moment he knew exactly why he was here.

When he’d awoken this morning, Magnus had assumed he’d awaken to the feeling of his baby pressing his lithe, nubile body back against his own, body grinding in a slow, dreamlike pace as they both began their days. He’d believed he would hear the small mewling sounds his lover let out when aroused and smell the sandalwood scent of his hair from the shampoo he constantly stole from Magnus himself.

Instead, he’d awoken to cold sheets on the other side of the bed that hadn’t been used and a lover absent from the apartment. At first he thought perhaps Alexander had simply fallen asleep in the living room or simply found himself unable to sleep due to nightmares and was simply relaxing on a sofa somewhere other than the bedroom so as to not disturb Magnus. But he’d released quickly this wasn’t the case and began searching all over their building and its surrounding neighbourhood.

He’d called upon his magic to search desperately for any trace of his lover to no avail. Over the phone he’d belittled and screamed at any and all associates who were unable to help him.

Without his Alexander, Magnus felt lost, no matter how independent they both were.

It wasn’t unusual for the elder of the two to head to bed first with the younger absent. Whilst not often or routine, Alexander’s job was to deal with demons which sometimes meant he didn’t return home until early in the morning and so, after the first few times, Magnus had given up waiting and simply fallen asleep without his love; Alexander was always there when he woke, always winding his body around Magnus’ own as if afraid he’d leave.

Except for now.

Magnus had spent the better part of the day searching for his baby, using every resource available at his disposal. He knew Alexander suffered strong separation anxiety over the two of them being separated, especially if it wasn’t on his own terms. More often than not Alexander would hunt him down and throw himself upon his knees regardless of where Magnus was when the feeling of panic became too much.

The reminder that his baby was probably worried beyond what he could handle had made him grow increasingly frustrated at the lack of positive or leading responses and by noon was on a warpath to find him, refusing to speak to anyone who couldn’t help him. The poor vampire who had used the absence of his lover to flirt found his insides painting the warlocks living room wall and became a message for any other ambitious Downworlders.

About three hours later Magnus had finally achieved a breakthrough in his search and discovered with revulsion that his baby was somewhere within the confines of the New York Institute. After his baby had tricked Hodge and Malachi a few months ago he’d never set a foot near the institute for safety, making sure to stay clear of their tracking technology; he’d been especially cautious once he’d been informed his parents had returned from Idris to take control.

As he’d set out Magnus began puzzling over the numerous different reasons Alexander was not only at the institute, but also why he’d been unable to track him there. Magnus’ magic was far more powerful than the wards of the institute, he should have been able to sense his blue eyed beauty’s presence when he first began scouring New York for any trace.

Was it possible they’d caught Alexander and he was sat in their cells awaiting trial? Had they dragged Alexander to the ops centre only to stab him and everyone was standing by to watch the life ebb out of him? Were they torturing him slowly and painfully to try and discover any information they could regarding Magnus?

A dark thought had come across his mind only for a moment, no longer, but it left him reeling and afraid of the truth. Could it be, that after all this time, Alexander had truly gone back to the institute – _his parents_ – and left Magnus?

It was one of Magnus’ darkest fears, one that he’d shared with Alexander multiple times, and despite the amount of reassuring his lover did, the presence of his insecurity had never gone away.

Magnus had stormed down to the institute, his cat eyes exposed and angry like flame, the familiar aqua blue of his magic turning red and bleak as he let his anger build. How _dare_ they try to take him away, how dare they touch what wasn’t theirs to touch?

Alexander belonged to him and him alone, and nobody, regardless of if they were Nephilim or not were allowed to touch his baby’s soft alabaster skin.

As he’d approached the institute Magnus had suddenly thought better of his storming fury, and decided that a tactile, underhanded approach would be much better, and was less likely to get his baby injured. The institute were probably expecting him to come for Alexander and so were lying in wait for him to come in all his glory.

He’d glamoured himself with magic, hidden his body from sight and used every bit of opportunity and luck that came his way to get inside the intimidating church building. He’d crept silently through the corridors, turning his nose at the bright adamas displays and constant pissing contests those in power were doing.

He’d walked passed a room filled with ‘trophies’ from previous Downworld hunts and fought the urge to be sick and burn the entire building to the ground. This place was a breeding ground of hate and discrimination and the sooner Magnus could find his Alexander and leave the better.

Without even checking Magnus knew his baby wouldn’t be in the cells of the institute; he was too powerful, too _important_ for them to risk leaving him in a cell. It was likely he was in the head office instead, a place so tightly guarded by wards and patrols that escape was practically impossible.

Which had led him to this exact situation.

Magnus, using his magic and natural ability, had sneaked into the office of Maryse and Robert only to find his baby; his beautiful, charismatic, _expressive_ baby tied to a chair by his wrists, ankles and waist. Tied around his mouth was a piece of leather that cut off his shouts and stifled his moans. Normally this was a look he loved on his lover, relished even, but only when they had done it together, only when his Alec was a willing and enthusiastic participant.

Not this. Not when Alec had been taken against his will and forced into it.

His body had been stripped of the naughty and sinful clothing he loved to tease Magnus with and replaced with the standard drab orange jumpsuit prisoners of the Nephilim wore. Part of Magnus feared that the jumpsuit would damage his darling’s already fragile one, especially with the connotations of the suit being so heavily reliant on his time in prison and Sebastian.

“Alexander.” He hears himself whisper in startled pity; his voice is soft, saddened, and Alec looks up at its emergence. His blue eyes light up in happiness and desperation and he begins swaying his body in a hopeless attempt of moving closer. He can hear Magnus’ voice, sense the general direction, but Magnus’ body is still hidden from sight. Behind the cloth his voice is strained and unintelligible, but Magnus thinks he can hear his love shouting his name.

His voice comes back reassuring, louder and more confident than in the previous moment, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll get you out of here.”

Alexander nods quickly in the general direction of his voice, eyes tearing up slightly with what Magnus thinks is both fear – likely from his past experiences of dealing with Nephilim – and desperation. He needs Magnus with him now, to reassure him that everything was going to be alright and he wasn’t going to be shipped off to their facilities again.

Magnus refused to allow it to happen again; not to his Alexander.

He hates that he has to keep his body hidden from his baby, but until he can secure an escape it would be best for all if he remained out of sight. The worst thing about it however, was the rapidly declining light of his love’s eyes; he believed the voice to be an illusion, an imagining of his mind made to reassure him that Magnus would come save him.

The Asian took a step closer, his feet silent on the carpet under his shoes, when the sound of high heels clattered down the corridor outside. Together they both shared a look of apprehension towards the door before Magnus made a quick, impulsive decision. He turned to his lover whose blue eyes shone with a fear that made Magnus want to cry, and completely silenced every action he performed, even his steps.

The elder turned around before he could see his lover’s reaction and moved towards the back corner of the room, placing a strong glamour around his body so that nobody besides him Alexander could see or sense him.

A minute passes and for a moment Magnus thinks the heeled shoes were going to go somewhere else when the door suddenly opens and both Maryse and Robert enter. They are staring at their son with utmost hatred and animosity, eyes cold and distant as they look down at him. Their faces are like stone, set in a disapproving and sever manner; Magnus can feel the sensation of dread rising in his stomach to what they might do to his Alexander.

“Well Alexander, it seems we have caught you once again,” is Robert’s opening line and Magnus watches as he sits himself opposite his son, smug smile etched onto his face. Maryse comes to a stop behind his chair, resting her hand sweetly on his shoulder, her face almost an exact copy of her husbands.

Alexander, to his credit, shows no outward reaction other than a tightening of his icy glare. “Of course, you were never a particularly skilled Shadowhunter so it wasn’t particularly hard.” Maryse continues with a little laugh, her amusement plastered onto her tone and face.

It’s a downright lie what she was saying. Alexander was one of the top Shadowhunters the Nephilim had ever had, _still was._ Magnus remembered being escorted into a room with increased security, his body tied up with more caution than ever before, Imogen Herondale herself coming to tell him how special his new psychiatrist was.

Alexander was more than just some drop in the ocean. How _dare_ his own parents insinuate so?

“I must ask Alexander,” His so-called father begins, a look of fake concern crossing his face as he positions his body closer to his sons in a mock gesture of affection. The whole display is sickening and Magnus knows his intelligent baby will never fall for it. “This whole _thing_ about you liking men, liking _Downworlders,_ was this something that that _warlock_ ,” The word is spat with so much repulsion that Magnus feels the same icy grasp of hatred clawing at his throat, he wants to scream and lash out, but the sight of Alexander jumping forward in his seat is enough to calm him down.

“forced you into? You were on the path to becoming head of this institute but after that monster… _corrupted_ you, everything changed. _You_ changed son. You can tell us Alexander, if the warlock made you do all this, go against us like you have, changed your ways to such an extent as he has, then you can always tell us. If he forced you, threatened you, we will take you back into our ranks with no complaint, you can marry a nice girl and nothing bad will happened to you as a result, everyone will know you didn’t want it.”

_Lies._

His lover remained silent at the suggestion, face remaining stoic and unresponsive to his parents as they listened eagerly for any sign of cooperation. Magnus cheered inwardly at his strength; Alexander had always faltered at mentions of his parents, had spent nights kneeling at the front of their bed, feverishly reciting verses of a book from a religion he didn’t believe in when their relationship came too much for him.

“ _Do not have sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman; that is detestable.”_

To see him now, face and body stern and unyielding to their meaningless and deceptive claims, made pride flare in Magnus’ chest.

Maryse didn’t appreciate the silence and took her sons lack of response to interject her own feelings on the matter. “Well then, if it is not being forced upon you then clearly your detestable and abominable lifestyle is your own fault.”

Her voice is like venom, sickly sweet but deadly, and Magnus sees his lover flinch slightly at his mothers tone. It’s the same one he knows she used when he was only thirteen years old, pressing a symbol into his hand and demanding he read it out loud over and over until the message remained in his head.

“We will torture you, rip out your nails and fingers one by one, tear at your flesh and cut into your body. We will take you apart inch by sinful inch until you tell us everything that monster is planning.” His lover stirs at her description, launching himself up from his chair as best as he can and trying to get at her. The ropes covering most of his body drag him back down instantly and both parents laugh in a classically fake way, smirks darkening into something more sinister.

They never intended for Alexander to make it out of this room alive. They would torture him themselves.

“Oh, do you not like us calling him by that name?” Robert questions, eyes alight and burning with amusement. “But we are simply calling him by what he is, a _monster_. He has left you Alexander, he has left you here to rot at our hands. He is not here to save you; he probably is celebrating the fact that he no longer has to deal with a useless brat like you. In fact he’s probably sending us a thank you present.” Roberts eyes are full of laughter and mirth and the increasing distress of his son and Magnus knows he needs to put a stop to their actions before something much worse happens.

“Besides,” Maryse continues from her husband, happy to keep verbally torturing and distorting her sons perception of their relationship, “You are no more than a toy to that man, you are a worthless object in his eyes Alexander, a thing he can use whenever and however he wants. Magnus Bane pulled you from the path of righteousness my son and abandoned you. Its been hours since we took you, and he has not even come _near_ this institute.”

And that’s a step too far, Magnus rationalises. He can take insults himself; _gods_ know he’s heard perhaps ever insult known to humankind thrown in his direction, but Maryse and Robert, _Alexander’s parents,_ are tormenting their own son with his insecurities.

Magnus knows his lover still fears his position in his life, still wonders why Magnus chose him of all people. Alexander struggles daily with the idea that not only Magnus _loves_ him but also will do everything in his power to make him happy and to hear his own parents so casually referring to him as a toy makes his blood boil and his magic flare.

In the chair Alexander’s form is slumped in defeat and despair, his baby blue eyes damp with tears not yet falling. Magnus will not let this continue further; he knows exactly what needs to be done.

“Excuse me,” he says with a voice oozing confidence and radiating calmness as he emerges from the corner, “I believe you have something of mine. I would like him back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter (and its sequal) are dedicated to the few people who asked for a fic where Maryse and Robert interfer in the couples lives and raise havoc. Its a mixture of the requests and my own ideas so I hope you all like it and the direction its going in as it will be a two parter. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please don't hesistate to comment on what you liked, didn't and any prompts you may have stashed away; remeber, this fic relies on your suggestions!!!!


	15. Papa don't preach - Part two

Maryse and Robert have the decency to appear shocked at his arrival from apparently nowhere. Their heads snap up like a whip and their eyes, so teeming with hatred and darkness, widen with fear as he approaches where they are sat.

His lover, so lost and so innocent, jumps in his seat at his voice, tried to turn and face him directly but the ropes pin him down tightly and Alexander can only shout a muffled form of his name through the leather in his mouth.

It makes Magnus sick.

Before either party can say a word Magnus waves his hand in a circular motion, icy blue magic swirling out and containing the Lightwood parents where they stood. His magic froze them, Robert sat hunched over on his chair, Maryse’s hand gripping his shoulder tightly with rigidity in her posture.

The patriarch of the family snarls, his mouth and eyes being the only parts of his body he retained control over, “How dare you?” He growls, making aborted attempts to reach Magnus who by now had reached his darling.

Magnus ignores the snarls and foul words spewing from the Lightwood parents and focuses his attention solely on the love of his life. The elder strokes a finger across his beloved’s cheek, gently wiping away the tears that had finally fallen from his beautifully deep blue eyes and smiles loving down at him; he can’t imagine the turmoil his darling is going through in this moment but he will do his damndest to help.

“Shh” he coos at Alexander as his magic makes its way around his body, gently untying and caressing the skin rubbed raw by the rope.

Within seconds of his release Alexander jumps up from the chair and, ignoring the abuse being shouted at him by his parents, launches himself into Magnus’ arms, legs wrapping securely around his waist and head burying itself in the junction of his neck.

Magnus can feel Alexander’s lips pressing and suckling gently on the skin on his neck, his need for something in his mouth during troubling times coming out in full force. Magnus doesn’t say anything for a moment, hugging his baby tight to his body and reassuring himself with the weight in his arms.

Alexander pulls back for a moment, red-rimmed eyes staring intently at Magnus’ own golden cat ones and smiles shyly, mouth widening when Magnus returns the gesture instantly. He presses a kiss to those luscious lips he adores so fervently, Alexander humming in happiness at the feeling, and feels his heart become whole again.

A loud petulant voice breaks them out of their reverie “What do you think you are doing freaks!” and Magnus sighs in annoyance before turning to face his lovers parents, Alexander stuck to his front. He again says nothing to them, simply raises an eyebrow, and deposits their son on the head of the institutes desk, namely Robert and Maryse’s desk.

“Don’t you see son; you are but a plaything for him. He comes only because _his_ reputation was being questioned, he cares little for you. If he did he would have gotten you out of here before now.” Maryse chimes in and Magnus grits his teeth in anger when Alexander ducks his head down in shame.

Well, that will not do.

In a moment Magnus makes a plan he believes will satisfy multiple people in the room. It will show the extent of Magnus’ power and love, reassure Alexander of his position in his life and humble the Lightwood parents into their _appropriate_ positions.

He kisses Alexander passionately, parting his lips with nips of teeth and the drag of his tongue, drinking in the responding mewls and moans. “I love. This. Mouth.” He states with every breath of air, “so full. So beautiful. Fits me just right.” He breaths out onto his lovers skin, ignoring the loud protests from across the room.

He moves onto his love’s eyes, tracing the shape with his finger and pressing kisses onto the lids, “These eyes, so deep and enticing. They are the first thing I think of when I wake, they are so full of life. Love. Happiness.” Alexander’s smile widens a little, a blush prominent on his face and Magnus returns his mouth to those lips he worships.

He trails a hand up the length of his darling’s thigh, “Don’t you understand Lightwoods,” he begins as his hand finds its place on Alexander’s waist, squeezing down and prompting a moan that Magnus drinks with his lips, tongue sliding effortlessly inside of Alexander’s mouth. He trails the hand downwards, lightly positioning it over his Harley’s clothed cock.

“That I would never,” he applies pressure and Alexander bucks his hips up reflectively, moaning obscenely and drowning out the loud shouts and complaints emerging from the still frozen couple in the corner. “ **ever** abandon my baby.” He rolls his hand and Alexander’s moans rise in volume, completely silencing the voices of his parents.

“This cock,” he smirks at the squeals of displeasure “is pretty and flushes a _wonderful_ colour when I ask it to, but my Alexander is more than just a pleasure toy.” He finishes, voice dropping lower as his own cock rises and solidifies.  

With a prompt wave of his hand the ugly orange jumpsuit of Alexander’s disappears and his baby is left already prepared for Magnus, hole loose and legs spread obscenely on the space of the desk.

Magnus continues his process with each movement, lavishing his lover in compliments as his lips trail a path of worship and devotion, as his tongue devours the tight ass on show. Magnus refuses to stop, no matter how loud the parents shout in anger, no matter how much his lover mewls and moans in deep sated pleasure.

He makes his way around the body slowly, pointing out each part and describing it the best he can, caressing it with either finger, tongue or lips. Their breaths become short and heavy and Alexander releases before Magnus has even pushed into his body, head thrown back in pleasure and voice screaming in ecstasy.

“What a delightful companion.” He states, turning his head slightly to Maryse and Robert. Their faces were molten in anger, snarls forcing their way through partially frozen lips and disgust prominent on their faces. “Can’t you understand what he means to me?” He questions rhetorically, knowing full well that the Lightwood parents will never see how talented or brilliant their son actually is.

He laughs gayly when Alexander insistently fondles the lapels of his jacket, urging Magnus with plaint movement and weakened moans to continue his movement. The taller knows Alexander is now lost to his pleasure, mind hazy beyond the realm of the heat and press of two bodies entwined, unable to picture anything beyond the pulsating, undulating movement of hips.

He no longer sees or hears his parents words.

“How could I ever say no my darling.”

Magnus pulls only his cock from his trousers and drives into the tight, wet channel of his lover, pistoning his hips deeper and deeper, faster and faster. His love screams with overwhelming pleasure, crying out in ecstasy as tears spill from his eyes in over stimulation. The elder refuses to give up, grunting out compliments regarding Alexander’s skills with weapons and strategies.

He refuses to let both Alexander himself and the Lightwood elders to think of his baby as anything less than worthy of his title as the best Shadowhunter. Just because the boy turned to the Downworlder side or entered into a relationship with him doesn’t make him any less of a talent. He refuses to allow any member of the clave to deny his strength or ability, to belittle him to nothing more than  a bed warmer or rag doll.

He will stand for it no further.

He circles his hips, pressing against his baby’s prostate, making the pale back arch up in a crescent.

“Cum for me Alexander, do as your daddy says.” He whispers, and watches with burning arousal as Alexander lets himself go, body jack-knifing in pleasure as ropes of white streak from his cock, head thrown back as a guttural scream emerges from his throat. With minimal movement of his own Magnus himself cums, unloading his pleasure inside of Alexander.

In the immediate quiet that follows Alexander shakily kneels, pressing his naked body into Magnus and winding his arms around his back for a loving hug. Magnus returns the gesture with passion, cradling the boy like a precious jewel in his arms as the stress of the day and recent actions make his baby fall into a blissful sleep on his shoulder.

Magnus simply laughs at the speed of his exhaustion and holds Alexander in a bridal carry in his arms, muttering a spell under his breath to cloth him in soft, flowy materials. He presses a gentle kiss to his beloveds forehead before turning around to face the ire and derision from the Lightwood parents.

“You monster.” Maryse spits at him, eyes betraying the depth of her disgust and anger. “You freak.” Magnus simply laughs at the insults; they mean little to him now.

“Do you forget who currently controls your body Maryse, or perhaps who allows you to speak in this moment?” His voice is light, a veneer hiding the complete and utter hatred he hold for the pair. “Let me remind you of something before this goes further.” He begins and watches as both parents find their eyes glued to his figure and mouths forced completely shut.

“Alexander means the world to me, more than anything that has come before. That means I will protect him until the end of the earth, I will punish those who seek him harm and destroy those who cause it. My darling is stronger than all of the people inside this building and you know it, do **not** manipulate him into believing anything less.

I will be taking him home now, and for the sake of goodwill, you will both be allowed to keep you lives. But listen carefully; you will tell no one of what happened in this room, nor will you seek out Alexander like this again. You will spread the words that I have told you, that he is officially under _my_ protection and any who go against it _will_ face consequences. Understood?”

His voice has gradually risen throughout his speech, the pure anger and hatred he feels forming the words and biting them out. The parents look at him in complete and utter fear, throats convulsing as they swallow in nervousness. Their eyes tell him they understand, that his message will be delivered and Magnus nods, satisfied.

In his arms Alexander shuffles his body slightly and Magnus looks down, face changing completely into something softer, more caring and loving. “We will be leaving now.” He exclaims, not even bothering to lift his head from where its positioned to face Alexander.

“You will not stop us.”

With barely a care to the frozen couple, Magnus turns on his heel and strides out of the office door, marching down the endless maze of corridors with fire in his eyes and his love in his arms. He ignores all passer-by’s, remains unbothered by their looks and words, determined only to get Alexander home and back in bed.

He reaches the doors and his magic bursts them wide open, the thundering sound sending many hunters jumping in panic. Magnus smirks in sadistic glee and makes his way out of the institute, pressing one last kiss to his baby’s head before opening a portal and striding intensely through.

Its only when the pair are tucked up in bed, Alexander’s back pressed solidly against Magnus’ front, that he released the Lightwood’s from the influence of his magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, finally a continuation of the last chapter! Bit shorter than usual but hope you all enjoyed it. Please don't hesitate to comment on what you liked or didn't and please send me any suggestions you want to see written up for the next chapters.


	17. All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy

Magnus didn’t manage to get to bed last night, his evening being filled with multiple _important_ appointments of a less than trivial nature, and so has not seen his darling for a considerable amount of time. He hasn’t touched that porcelain skin, heard those supple moans and mewls of pleasure, or held that pliable and flexible body of his lover in his arms since the morning before, which was a criminal offense if Magnus ever heard it.

As a criminal himself, he trusted this opinion.

About half way through the night Alexander had sent him a simply delicious video to make the hours go by faster and sate his hunger towards the younger boy; but there was a notable difference in seeing something and experiencing it.

A few weeks ago his darling had fended off an entire army of disgruntled Downworlders who had stormed their home and Magnus, despite knowing his love could fight them off, was still a little fearful that something was going to happen. Alexander sending him tantalising videos of himself in several _compromising_ positions throughout the day let him know everything was alright.

It also gave him several elicit fantasies for his baby.

A particular image entered into his memory as he entered his next meeting, (he was now verging on over twenty four hours without sleep, and his need for Alexander was driving him insane) of Alexander writhing on their bed with only his cuffs on, cock ring tight around his base and vibrator working its way slowly inside and out of his wet hole.

His love was screaming his name in pleasure, moaning desperately as he rutted into thin air, sobs of desperation painting his face a pretty red and Magnus had shamelessly played the video at full volume in his meeting with rogue Shadowhunters looking to join his side.

That image remained burned behind his eyelids as he strolled into the meeting with the Seelie Queen and associates and Magnus heaved a sigh of annoyance at the coy smile gracing her face. The taller male was notably aroused at the memory of his angel’s video (which was already saved in his personal files) and as always, the Queen believed herself responsible for his cock hardening.

She knew of Alexander but choose to ignore his importance. She would never even dare to believe herself less appealing to Magnus than a young eighteen year old boy.

With a single wave of her hand she sent away her guards, eyes never straying from Magnus’ body.

“Magnus, I am _delighted_ you found time in your schedule to come see me, let me know if there’s anything I can do to… _repay_ you for your time.” She moves her body in a way Magnus presumes is supposed to be alluring to him, but Magnus’ golden gaze lends itself only to the nubile body of his Harley and so the queen finds her suggestion met with cold indifference.

She frowns in a manner unappealing to her age and apperance and Magnus refuses to hide a smile behind his hand over her action. She is only embarrassing herself further.

She sends him a sharp glare that could rival his lover’s own stormy blue eyes and bares her teeth sharply in his direction, hands clenching into fists at his blatant disrespect. She waves her hand once more and draws forth a fae from the depths of the forest surrounding them; Magnus doesn’t hear what she says to him, but he assumes nothing good.

“Well then Mr Bane, let us continue our meeting shall we?”

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus doesn’t realise what she’s done until much later, what that fae in her charge was tasked with doing until he finally gets home from almost two full days of constant meetings. Alexander had stopped sending him anything about halfway through his second day and Magnus was beginning to feel the stirrings of discomfort in his stomach.

The last message Alexander had sent was of a picture of their bed, perfectly made, with a neatly decorated box from his angel’s new favourite lingerie place resting casually in the centre and the message:

_I’ve got a welcome home surprise for you xoxoxoxoxo_

At the time it had sent ropes of arousal pulsating through his body, but now, with hours’ worth time having gone by and an absent of messages, the arousal has turned to fear. What if the Downworlders had attacked again? What if Alexander hadn’t fended them off this time?

“Baby?” He called out into the darkened hallway, voice hesitant and shaky. It’s a far cry from his usual, domineering voice that commands armies of Downworlders and rips Nephilim to shreds with little care; this voice is one only for his darling to hear, if anyone ever did hear it they would soon meet their end.

His call is met with no response and Magnus throws aside his coat instantly, running through the halls of their home, shouting for Alexander. Every room he comes across had an absence of light and the usual copper smell that permeates the air when Alexander is home from killing is missing. His steps become more desperate, his body pushing itself from room to room in hope of finding his darling.

A small cough broke his reverie and Magnus lands outside of their bedroom door, it’s surprising to himself that this was not the first place he looked. “Alexander…” his voice drawls as his tawny hands gently coax the wooden door of their room open.

Like the rest of their house the room is in darkness, the curtains drawn and the lights extinguished. On the grand king sized bed before him, Magnus can make out a small mound of blankets, tissues are scattered all around the floor and the bed, and the Asian can make out the slight outline of a bowl on the bedside table.

“Alexander?” Magnus wearily approaches the bed, hand outstretched to touch the small mountain curled up on their bed. A hoarse moan replies to his question and Magnus lets out a soothing coo, hand stroking the presumed position of his baby’s back in comfort.

When Alexander finally speak to him, voice low and scratchy, the elder can hear the congestion in his throat and understands the muddled thoughts of his brain. “Maggie?”

Magnus simply wraps his arms around his love and lays down next to him for support; when Alexander gets ill (a very, _very_ rare occasion) he rejects all offers of help and goes out of his way to remove any object which may provide him with aid.

There’s a faint smell of _something_ unusual surrounding his darling and Magnus shifts forward minutely, trying to detect exactly what it is.

“Baby?” Alexander shakes in his grasp, a cold fever racking his body and his arms let out a quick succession of small, jerky fits that make Magnus hold his boy closer in fear. “Baby?” his voice shakes more than he’d like, his veneer of Downworld leader crumbling in the face of his Harley shaking like a leaf in his arms.

Alexander doesn’t respond to any of his questions, simply grips the material of his shirt tightly and buries his head in the space of his neck and shoulder; he whines in a high pitched, whimpering tone and claws his nails.

Magnus breaths in deeply and lets out a wave of magic, scanning his lover for whatever the hell has corrupted his system. If someone is responsible for this illness – he _knows_ this is nothing natural – Magnus will find them and make their death so slow and torturously painful they will look upon his face and see the demon buried deep within him, the presence of his father never quite removed.

He will reign down all of hellish fury inside of him and make them _pay_.

It comes to him after only a little probing of magic, a small flare that lights up in the pit of his lover’s stomach. Its green, dark and swirling, as is the nature of Seelie’s and Magnus growls at the insolence. The Seelie Queen has harmed his lover, cast a dark spell of magic over him, all because Magnus refused to sleep with her.

She may be the Queen of her realm, but Magnus is the leader of the Downworld and that bitch will not be seeing the end of the day. It was time for a new ruler for the Seelie’s anyway – her reign had lasted _far too long._

For now Magnus would do all he could to make sure his Alexander got through this…this illness. He placed a loving kiss to his angel’s temple and clutched him tight to his chest, planning in his head multiple ways to tear down the Seelie Queen and put her in her place once and for all. Alexander shivers against him once more, and Magnus conjures up some soothing tea to help rest his stomach.

Alexander would make it through this, Magnus would ensure it, but the Seelie Queen most certainly would not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and please don't hesitate to leave a comment on what you liked, didn't and any prompts you may have.


	18. There is no small pleasure from pure water part one

Magnus knew the moment the man entered his club, knew that it was the very person he’d been hunting for the past week and a half with dogged determination. Ever since that day earlier in the month, when multiple members of the Downworld had mysteriously disappeared only to turn up a day later decapitated and mutilated, Magnus had been searching for this man to turn up at his club.

And now he had walked straight into the lion’s den.

In hindsight, the Indonesian thinks, it was highly likely he wouldn’t have even gone to the effort of searching for this man had the Downworlders he’d killed had only been members of his ‘group’ – those people died all the time and literally signed their lives away when joining his forces – but this man, this _monster¸_ had seen fit to kidnap and kill children of the Downworld for his own pleasure.

Magnus still hears the heart wrenching screams and sobs of his angel when they’d been informed; his darling loved those kids and spent many hours amongst their company, training them, caring for them. He’d babysat them more than once and at least once a week had gathered them all together for an activity – be that a movie night or group training.

He’d made a promise to Alexander the night they’d been told, promised his love he would find this man and let the Shadowhunter loose on him.

His golden eyes followed the man’s confident steps as he strutted like a peacock across _his_ dancefloor, an arrogant sway to his hips. Its an admittedly ballsy move, coming to the very place owned by the man trying to find him, but Magnus can tell the man believed he wouldn’t get caught, believed himself above Magnus’ punishments and anger.

It wouldn’t stand.

The man moved towards the bar like a ghost, fluently and narrowly avoiding the numerous grinding and gyrating bodies littering the area. He held up his long, dirty fingers and snapped them in the direction of the fae tending the bar, calling them towards his like a dog. It made Magnus disgusted and sick to watch, the way this man treated any one not like himself as if they were less than the dirt beneath his feet.

His teeth grinded together in his mouth when he saw the bartender submissively approach him with a drink already in hand, holding it out like poison and jerking their hand back when the man snatched it from their grip. The man’s appearance was intimidating from the offset, larger than most (potentially even Magnus himself) and a stockiness that was unnatural to most forms – it was no wonder that bartender wanted nothing to do with him.

The darkness and red glare of the man’s eye had only made the man more disturbing to Magnus; had that glare been the last thing those kids had seen?

If Magnus had any pity or sympathy for this man before (which he most certainly _did not!_ ) it would have thrown itself out of the window upon first glance of the man still sat at the bar.

The crowd at _Pandemonium_ that night was busier than Magnus had seen it for many years and for the most part induvial bodies melded into the hot and pulsating crowds of partygoers, unable to be discerned to the human eye. However, the Warlock could still pinpoint certain _impressionable_ members of the crowd that would not doubt capture the attention of the cold-blooded killer amongst them.

Next to the bar were a couple of werewolves, kissing and entwining themselves impossibly close. The female was atop the male’s lap, legs spread as she rode him hard and passionately, fucking each other hard and unbearably fast, chasing their release.

At the back of the dancefloor, partially hidden to Magnus but on full display to the bar, a female vampire, dark and alluring in her leather top and skirt, reclined decadently over a padded chair with a join in her hand, the slow tendrils of smoke twirling upwards towards the roof like embers of a flame. Between her legs is a head of hair moving slow, the vampires own hand curled tightly in their locks. Magnus can’t see exactly who that person is, but he can see the red tinted pleasured eyes of the vampire who raises her head in celestial orgasm.

Magnus could spend a considerable amount of time with his eyes roaming the floor, finding any number of people taking their pleasure for the evening, fucking, smoking, drinking; before, back when not being deeply in love with his baby, he probably would have offered to join someone.

But those days are past and Magnus had much more interesting and vitally important matters to attend to before he would even thinking about letting his golden eyes scan the room for inspiration.

From his throne high above the _Pandemonium_ crowd, Magnus had seen the man’s uncomfortable gazing eyes swivel like a predator around the room, hungrily roaming and analysing bodies for his next prey. True to form, his piercing red eyes lingered on both the werewolf couple on the edge of completion and the vampire shotgunning her join with the unknown person between her legs but moved off after only a few moments.

He watched as the man’s eyes eventually landed and remained steadfastly on his personal heavenly sin dancing on a small circular stage next to the DJ booth. With evil satisfaction, Magnus noted the lack of recognition in the mans unsettling eyes and knew their plan would go down with unmitigated success.

His darling had gone full out that evening, acting on the intel they’d received from Raphael that their victim would be there tonight. He had wanted to lure the man to him without Magnus’ intervention if necessary and _well…_ Magnus wasn’t exactly going to complain when he walked out of their bedroom with his chosen outfit of the night.

His Harley was dancing upon the small stage surrounded by crowds of adoring and lust driven fans with little care. His long lustrous legs were clad in tight leather knee high boots and nothing else, the heel on his shoes raising to about eight inches and sharpening to a dagger point. His alabaster body was coated in a light shimmering of glitter that reflected beautifully of the flashing lights of the nightclub and made his body seem positively radiant and angelic.

Alexander tonight had wanted to try out a new style of outfit and Magnus, willing as always, had encouraged his love to do so with rapid enthusiasm. Instead of his usual miniskirts and illegally tight shirts, his angel wore a skimpy black leotard of shimmery translucent fabric, a frilly silk thong being the only cover for his most intimate and private of areas.

The front of the leotard was a triangle stretch of fabric descending from his sharp collar bones and narrowing to the point of his cock, the sides a collection of spaghetti strips of fabric overlaying and connecting to the backless and miniscule fabric on his back – if it could be deemed to be called that. In short his angel looked like sin personified, completed with dark and shadowy eye makeup that alone could tempt a saint.

Magnus hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself when Alexander had first stepped out of their bedroom and had ravished him where he’d stood with barely a word spared between them. Even now, looking at his rotating hips and licentious legs, Magnus felt himself harden and strain against the confines of his tight leather trousers.

Feeling his piercing gaze, Alexander turned his head towards Magnus’ booth and sent a shy smile in the older man’s direction, eyes fluttering at the wave of pleasurable magic his lover sent through his body as their gazes met. With little more than a wink and tilt of the head, Magnus conveyed the message of the man’s arrival to his lover and smiled connivingly at the sudden hardening and darkening of his bright blue eyes.

With golden cat eyes, Magnus watched as his love turned and captured the gaze of the killer, his azure orbs enticing the man to walk towards him like a possessed animal.  Alexander held the mans gaze as he plucked a cherry from the drink of a person near him and pressed the plump red fruit to his lips, puckering his lips torturously and dragging the fruit into the warmth depths of his mouth by the curling of his tongue.

Only then did his Alexander flutter his eyes shut, raising his head in ecstasy and letting out a profound and arousing moan that was heard above the deafening music. The red eyed man stuttered in his steps, eyes fixated on the plush lips of the angel and the swanlike slope of his neck. Magnus smirked in his drink, his baby knew his role _perfectly_ and was giving an Oscar worthy performance.

If later Raphael told him the smirk looked more like a grimace of jealousy…well, no one needed to know about the fire that had started in his gut at that moment.

Ignoring the rest of the crowd that had eagerly surrounded the base of his platform, Alexander winked wantonly at the man, and let his gaze drift almost lazily towards the ascending staircase at the rear end of the building, lips widening into a sinful and alluring smile that spoke of untold pleasures. It spoke of worship and desire, of a desperate need to be fucked.

The red eyed man followed his loves gaze and grinned confidently at the unspoken request. Magnus could practically _see_ the leer on his features, the slight drool in his mouth at the thought of fucking _his_ baby; most likely he would try to kill his Alexander like he had those kids once he realised who exactly he’d taken to bed.

Alexander had strutted off the platform without waving goodbye to his fans, hips swaying temptingly in his shimmering leotard as he ascended the stairs. His eyes only strayed back once to capture the gaze of his lover upon the throne, and the evil, salacious smile that adorns his face speaks to exactly what the fate of the man will be.

With little care and confident sway to his walk, the red eyed man followed his angel up the staircase and out of sight of the rest of the club.

It was up to Alexander now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry i've been gone so long but I had increased working hours and then a family holiday, but now I'm back and hoping to do more regular updates as I realize i have been quite neglectful to all my works recently. I hope you can all forgive me and I promise to do more for you guys! 
> 
> Let me know what you liked about this chapter and any other prompts you may have for this verse: the more the better!
> 
> The next chapter will be posted tomorrow.


	19. There is no small pleasure from pure water part two

The room above _Pandemonium_ is a juxtaposition of magnanimous amount. Small and homely, it exuded a different atmosphere and feeling than the gyrating, pulsating nightclub below; the music downstairs couldn’t be heard and the stuffy, overbearing crowds gave way to quiet solitude.

For the most part, the room upstairs looked like an extravagant living area, catered to the tastes of a monotonous, unadventurous trust fund millionaire. Filled predominantly with black and white colour and furniture, the room had very little about it to catch anybody’s eye and could only be described as minimalistic.

It was not a room one associated with Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn and leader of the Downworld.

That was until you looked outside.

A small, almost hidden, door wedged between two oversized houseplants and filled with a hazy glass that obscured the vision, led outside to a magnificent balcony overlooking what appeared to be the entirety of New York. It was beautiful and wholly understated, a shrine to the lifestyle led by the warlock, and for such a reason it was Alec’s favourite place to visit at _Pandemonium._

Of course, the large, clear watered pool that stretched along the length of the balcony may also be an incentive. Magnus and he had spent many _pleasurable_ hours in that pool.

Alec’s steps were careful as he came up the grand staircase, exuding sex and sensuality in every sway of the hips to ensure his victim would follow close behind. This man, this disgrace of a human being would die at his hands tonight, and no mercy would be spared.

Alec’s had loved those Downworlder children as if they were his own, and he had sworn revenge against the man who had slaughtered them. With Raphael’s intel and Magnus’ communication, Alec knew for certain the man following him and the murderer were one in the same, and a morbid glee arouse strongly in him as he heard the footsteps follow clumsily along.

He knew this outfit would work in his favour; it was guaranteed to allure any man towards him. And if Magnus buying him almost twenty more leotards after he’d finished ravaging him earlier in the afternoon was any indicator, this man would have fallen hook, line and sinker once he’d glanced at Alec.

He spoke no words as his high heeled feet began strutting over the floor towards the door, simply twirled around to see the man almost directly behind him, hazy red eyes captivated and unmoving on the tiny strip of fabric covering his ass. Alec smiled coquettishly and fluttered his long eyelashes, holding out his hand towards the man, stealthily covering up the grimace when he felt the rough, scar-ridden hand grip him tight.

It was a far cry from the loving, soft hands he desired upon his body.

“ _You can do anything tonight darling,”_ Magnus had told him that afternoon before leaving, arms encircling his waist and body pressed close to his back, “ _Spit on him, stomp on him with your heels… nothing would stop him following you.”_ His taller lover had kissed and nipped at his neck as he spoke, gently swaying their bodies to an imaginary rhythm. “ _You could cut out his heart and he’d love you for it.”_

It was with this message in his head that Alec had confidently lead the man through the partially hidden door to outside. The large, red eyed monster had finally looked away from Alec’s ass for one second and took in the surrounding area. The Shadowhunter could see the way his eyes widened into pounds and his dirty mouth had gaped open in disbelief at what he was seeing.

Alec had simply giggled at his expression, causing the man to once again focus on him alone, and walked backwards towards the pool, blue eyes darkening in anticipation. Alec could feel himself swell underneath the small pieces of fabric covering his body and with no shame moved his palm downwards until the heel of his hand was pressing sinfully down against it.

The man’s red eyes turned almost black with lust and he made an aborted step forward, stopping in seeming speechless ness as Alec descended, heels and all, into the depths of the steaming pool, swimming away to rest in one of the corners, pale, unblemished arms coming up to rest on the side.

The Shadowhunter could hardly contain himself and grinned venomously at the stunned figure still lingering on the edge of the water. “What are you waiting for?” He asked sultrily, voice deepening and becoming breathier. The man just nodded his head like a puppy and hurriedly began undressing himself, almost tripping and falling headfirst when removing his trousers before his shoes.

The whole display was pathetic and Alec just wanted it to be other so he could go and dance for his _Joker_ and one true love.

Finally the man stepped down into the water, sharp, piercing gaze locked onto Alec’s azure eyes, and the smaller male beckoned him closer with a crooked finger, biting his lips coyly and running his tongue across his teeth. The man laughed breathily and stalked forward like a predator, pushing the hard lines of his body harshly into Alec’s and curling his neck downwards to kiss him. Alec smile turned deadly and he hastily pressed a finger to the man’s lips, unwilling to let them touch what Magnus had declared sacred.

Instead he pressed the palm of his right hand to the top of the man’s hair and began pushing him down, indicating another pleasure altogether, and watched as the man’s smile turned almost evil. He began kissing his way down the pale planes of Alec’s chest, suckling and nipping at the tight buds of his nipples, rocking his hips into Alec’s harshly when the smaller boy let out pleasurable mewls.

Alec pushed down harder, encouraging the man to lower his head under the water, and suckle at the place he wanted the most. Rough hands pushed aside the fabric around his heavy cock and Alec’s back arched as wet heat suddenly surrounded his member and fingers began probing at his loose hole.

Subconsciously, Alec began rocking his hips forward into the man’s mouth, shoving his cock hard and fast down the man’s throat and delighting as the figure under the water began squirming in discomfort. A laugh ripped out of him as the man tried to pull himself out of the water and breath in much needed oxygen.

The pale man simply wrapped his heeled legs around the man’s abnormally large back and tightened his thigh muscles, locking him in place. Alec could feel the man thrashing underwater mouth open and screaming around his cock as he desperately tired to take in gulps of air that he had no access to.

He laughed cheerfully and gay when the struggling began to die down, when the man’s thrashes and struggles began drifting off into tired and pathetic hits and wriggles. The tightness around his cock began to disappear and fingers slipped almost daintily away from his ass. Eventually the man’s movement stopped altogether and his body naturally began to drift away from Alec’s bumping above the surface every so often.

Alec looked down at the disgusting creature floating near by and felt the snarl rise on his face, the displeasure of having such a figure nearby displeasing him greatly.

With little care to the wetness of his body, Alec stepped out of the pool and dragged the large body behind him, close to the railing. He looked down at the dead and blue man, analysed the fading redness of his eyes and scoffed at the sight of the once intimidating man lying dead before him. He was a monster and portrayed himself as invincible, yet here he lay after being killed because he started thinking with his dick and not his head.

Alec shook his head and reached out to the plant pot nearby. Behind it lay a seraph blade, one of many he’d placed around the space when he and Magnus had started becoming steady, and with little hesitation the smaller male activated it and began kneeling towards the body to complete his task.

With an expressionless face and void mind, Alec hacked away at the man’s cock, severing it from the rest of his body, and shoved it angrily down his throat, blocking up his airways and bulging out his throat. He then hacked and sawed at the junction of the man’s neck, decapitating the head from the body as the man once had to the children he’d killed.

Alec worked in silence, unwilling to be playful and joyed at the death of the man before him; but the blood of the children weighed too heavily on his conscience and Alec took little joy from seeing the man dead.

Once the head had been removed Alec enacted his final bit of revenge and tossed the body and head over the side of the balcony, disgracing the man by leaving him squandered and abandoned on the cold street of New York, left to be found early in the morning by some unsuspecting jogger.

With the act completed Alec took a moment to stare out into the night’s sky and breath deeply, washing away the regret and sadness that had enveloped him on news of the Downworld children deaths. He felt his guilt fly away with his revenge enacted and as he stared into the night sky Alec swore he saw seven stars glitter and shine stronger than any surrounding them.

With a final glance down to the grimy streets below and the darkened figure of a decapitated, humiliated body littering th pavement, Alec turned around and began strutting back toward the nightclub below, leotard dripping and more translucent with the excess water.

Alec smiled sinfully; Magnus would love it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, here's the continuation of the previous part, hope you all enjoyed it! As always, please don't hesitate to comment on what you liked or didn't and remember, this fic is run by your suggestions, so don't be shy and tell me what you want to see, no matter how deprived or adorable it may be.


	20. Snapshots part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is an amalgamation of multiple different personal ideas and suggestions from you guys and in the second part, again you'll see more of your ideas springing forth. That being said, I hope you enjoy it.

Alec wakes up slowly, his eyes shift under his eyelids and he feels the warmth of the early morning sun cover his exposed body. He hears the sound of traffic and people far beneath the window, the hustle and bustle of a city beginning its day. Slowly the world comes up to him like a gentle breeze, and he feels the heavy weight of his lovers tanned arm over his waist, possessively pulling him back into a chiselled and muscular chest.

Alec snuggles back into the warmth, happy to keep his eyes closed and remain ignorant to the waking world outside, content to waste away the day held tightly in his lovers arms. There is no place he’d rather be.

Some days he’ll feel an urge to get up and kill, to mutilate and destroy before the sun has reached the horizon, but today is a relaxing day. A happy day.

The smaller boy hums to himself, satisfied and content with life, and pushes himself into a tight ball. He curves his limbs perfectly, wholly containing his body within the circle of his love’s heads and feet so that not an inch is untouched by Downworlder skin.

As if in a dream, he feels the warlock tighten his grip almost infinitesimally, a subconscious reaction to feeling Alec press back into him. His daddy is not yet awake, the grip of Morpheus too strong, but Alec enjoys his presence non the less.

He keeps his blue eyes shut tightly, to feign sleep and retain innocence _should_ Magnus wake up and begins to slowly grind back against the morning wood pressing rigidly into ass. Last night they fell asleep so soon after sex that his warlock has not yet removed his dick from inside of Alec and the blue eyed boy cannot find it within himself to feel upset about it.

His movements are small, almost like a whisper of breath upon skin, but he draws Magnus to fullness inside of his body, an easy grin slipping onto his face. In his sleep Magnus moans and begins to grind up into the smaller boy and Alec lets out a series of breathy whimpers at the increase in pressure and speed. He presses back harder but retains a slow and steady pace, unwilling to disturb the peace and warmth this new day brings.

He can feel himself near completion, that build up of pressure that ignites in his stomach and flares like fireworks. His toes curl and Alec flings his head back and he spends his load along his chest and the covers of the bed.

His breath is harsh and exhausted, and Alec feels the dredges of sleep coming to grasp him and lead him gently down into the land of dreams and rest when a voice, rough and course with awakening, speaks blearily and mumbling.

“I hope you’re going to clean that up.” The words are slurred and almost unrecognisable, but Alec smile fades into something more loving and warm upon hearing them. He nods, unseen to his companion, and snuggles back into his love, sated and content once more.

“Of course, Daddy.” He mumbles, eyes remaining closed as Magnus gently pecks his temple in a gentle and tender way only he experiences. Its his secret pride and joy, that only he sees Magnus Bane, ruler of the Downworld, at his most care-free and vulnerable state.

There’s peaceful silence between them as they give themselves over to sleep, a moment frozen in time as both prepare themselves to fall into a deep slumber that will last a few hours more – no business needing to be tended to this day.

“Good morning, Angel.”

“Good morning, Daddy.”

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus watches Alec stand in front of a row of tied up Shadowhunters and Downworlder’s. His blue eyes, piercing and cold, analyse each and every face, committing it to memory and judging what he finds. His mouth, that adorable and sexy cupids bow mouth that tempts and teases on a daily basis, is lifted in a sneer and a gentle hand, so delicate and pale looking raises the head of a vampire.

These creatures had tried to attack his empire the other day (marching towards his apartment building with pitchforks of all things!) but had failed quite spectacularly once his baby had begun raining down a storm of arrows upon them. They had flailed and panicked, destroying every little bit of their planning and allowing Magnus easy access in capturing them.

Some had died that day, others injured and a few fled. But Magnus sent his most trusted Downworlder’s on it and within such a short amount of time, each and every last member of the ‘uprising’ had been dragged before him on their knees.

His angel, so powerful and awe-inspiring whilst upon the rooftop had begged Magnus – quite prettily on his knees – to be allowed to play with them when they were finally captured and the elder was in no position to deny him.

The smaller male dragged the tip of his seraph blade along the prisoners neck, and Magnus could see the cogs turning in his head as he decided what punishment would befall each person individually. His darling was incredibly clever, so not one persons pain would be replicated on another, Alexander’s creativity running wild with ideas and possibilities.

Magnus watched, infatuated, as his angel walked back and forth along the line-up once more before turning towards him and smiling adoringly. The blood scattered on his face and clothing made him seem invincible and incredibly alluring and Magnus couldn’t wait until they were finally alone – not that it had stopped them before.

Alexander winked at him and tilted his head as if observing and estimating how much he could get out of Magnus’ magic for this particular torment session.

“Daddy?” He asked, voice light and curious. Magnus saw many of the Downworlder and Shadowhunter’s heads turn rapidly at the speech.

“Yes baby”

“I’m ready to play.”

 

* * *

 

Alec stood in front of the wardrobe, finger idly tapping his chin and head titled as he deliberated over what to wear. Normally he would reach into the wardrobe and pull out something sexy and enticing to excite Magnus, but the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to go that direction.

Sexy and dangerous was _good_ , most of the time, but occasionally Alec wanted to feel soft and dainty, like a single breath or brush of a word could break him. He wanted Magnus’ arms wrapped around him in protection and for his body to be surrounded with warmth and love like never before.

A single meow broke Alec out of his reverie and the blue eyed boy watched as Chairman meow, the second most prized possession owned by Magnus, strolled casually into the room, head held high and fur steamed and brushed.

The cat sauntered over to Alec and brushed upon his legs, the soft and dense fur of his coat brushing up against his legs. The small boy gasped at the sensation, enjoying the feeling of softness tickling against his skin and suddenly was struck with an idea for what to wear.

Reaching down, he gently picked the cat up and held him carefully against the exposed skin of his chest. He kissed the Chairman good morning, as he often did, and listened joyfully to the sound of loud and aggressive purring and his hand stroked through the fur. Chairman was Alec’s comfort when Magnus was not around and often the pair were found snuggling together watching TV if Magnus’ meeting overran.

For now Alec placed one last, delicate, kiss against the Chairman’s fur before releasing him to the floor. The cat meowed petulantly, demanding his morning intake of food, and dashed out of the small gap in the door, no doubt moving swiftly towards his food bowl was and swiping his tail impatiently.

Alec turned back to his wardrobe and carefully picked out his clothing choice for the day. He was confident Magnus would appreciate the softness and – hopefully- adorableness. He wanted hugs and kisses when his daddy returned home, and although he more than enjoyed their wild, passionate, _ravenous_ encounters, something in him today refused to desire them.

With a gentle smile, Alec took the clothes and began to get changed.

 

* * *

 

 

To Magnus, his darling had never look so spectacular.

They’d just come back from a quite _bloody_ meeting, where multiple Seelie’s had to be forcibly put down in numerous graphic and hastily preformed ways. Magnus knew the Queen had no love for her subjects but she now basically sending them out like cannon fodder for Magnus and his angel to destroy.

Alexander had rushed to the bedroom to clean off and get changed, leaving Magnus behind to snap his dirty clothing away and replace them with a clean pair of trousers and shirt. It was no worry to do that same for his lover, but Magnus was aware Alec liked the process of choosing his clothes and physically putting them on after so many years of repressed choices at the institute.

The moment he stepped out of the door; Magnus didn’t regret not choosing his Harley’s clothing.

Alexander had on a pair of knee high, fluffy pink socks embossed with the face of a cat at the end of each foot, his legs were bare and the shorts he had on were hidden underneath the large, oversized pastel pink jumper that landed mid-thigh on his baby.

The material looked soft and fluffy, with the sleeves hanging over the blue eyed boy’s fingers and hiding them from view. The baggy hood was pulled halfway atop his loves hair, leaving his bangs exposed and drooping slightly into his eyes, just the way Magnus loved it. Alec smiled softly and drew the corner of one sleeve to his mouth, biting down softly and looking towards the ground as he swung his hips in nervousness.

“Do you like it daddy?” He questioned softly, voice quiet and low, far removed from the yelling and screaming Magnus had heard only half an hour ago when fighting the Seelie’s. The warlock felt himself move forward with meaning and took his angel carefully into his arms, holding him daintily, like one would a fairy tale princess.

“I love it baby boy.” Alexander’s stunning blue eyes turned upwards towards Magnus’ own cat eyes with happiness and joy and the elder was reminded in this moment just how young Alexander actually was. “C’mon,” he urged, pulling the smaller boy by a fluffy covered hand, “let’s go sit down.”

The pair moved slowly towards the large and comfortable settee placed in the middle of the living room. They collapsed onto it heavily, the days exhaustion and grueling work demands catching up to them instantly as they did so. Magnus reached out his arms and drew Alexander into his lap, the smaller, nubile bodied boy, curling up like a cat and resting his head underneath Magnus’ chin.

Their loft was peaceful and quiet and they both reflected on their day and let all the stress and aches float away like whispers at night. Magnus wasn’t sure how long they sat there in silence, merely allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of his darling pressed up tight against his chest and on his lap, when a gentle tugging on the neck of his shirt drew his attention.

Magnus looked down curiously and smiled dopily at his lover as Alexanders clear blue eyes stared adoringly up at him. “Yes darling?” he questioned, eyes sharpening and narrowing at Alexander tugging his shirt once more. His cat eyes sought out the offending hand, a frown etching its way on his face, when he finally caught sight of what Alexander wanted.

In his baby’s hand, finally uncovered from the long and – frankly – adorable sleeves, he held a joint confidently between two fingers. He smiled crookedly at Magnus and titled his head in challenge, eyes glinting in a dare most wouldn’t dream of accepting.

The warlock laughed softly through his nose and dipped his head, gently pressing his lips against Alexander’s and allowing himself the pleasure of tasting his angel. He felt his lips stretch into a smile and his fingers take the joint from those pale, delicate looking, strong hands with little trouble. Magnus pulled back only slightly, his lips brushing Alexander’s when he spoke, and stared intently into his eyes.

“My darling, I love you so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my lovelies, hope you enjoyed this chapter, please don't hesitate to comment what you liked or didn't and any suggestion you may have for future chapters. Many thanks xx

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this au of Magnus as the Joker and Alexander as Harley Quinn, please dont hesitate in commenting on any prompts that you may have!


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